ALL  ABOUT  EDITH 


MRS.  JAMES   MASON 


1  A  sacred  burden  is  the  life  ye  bear, . 
Look  on  it,  lift  it,  bear  it  solemnly. 
Stand  up  and  walk  beneath  it  steadfastly, 
Fail  not  for  sorrow,  falter  not  for  sin, 
But  onward,  upward,  till  the  goal  ye  win." 

FRANCES  ANNE  KKMBLE. 


TROY,  N.  Y. : 

H.  B.  NIMS  &  COMPANY. 
1878. 


COPYRIGHT,  1877, 
Bv  H.  B.  NIMS  &  COMPANY. 


N«w  York  :  J.  J.  LHtle  *  Co.,  Printer*, 
10  to  to  Actor  Place. 


TO 

THE  REV.  FRANK   L.  NORTON 


is 

AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED 
BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


2043317 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER   I. 

1  Some  chord  in  unison  with  what  we  hear 
Is  touched  within  us  and  the  heart  replies." 

COWPER. 


F  was  the  early  part  of  October.  One 
of  those  autumnal  sunsets  that  no  pen 
can  describe  was  fading  in  the  west, 
and  the  shadows  of  evening  were  deepening 
in  the  recesses  of  the  cheerful  room  where 
Alice  Le  Roy,  a  young  but  mature  girl,  was 
standing,  listlessly  watching  the  distant  hills. 
She  was  startled  by  the  entrance  of  her  moth- 
er, a  delicate  woman,  possessing  the  quiet  and 
refined  air  of  one  who  has  always  lived  at 
ease  and  in  comfort. 

"  Alice  dear,  has  your  sister  Edith  returned?  " 

5 


6  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Why,  mamma,  I  supposed  she  was  home 
an  hour  since  ;  really  you  are  too  indulgent  to 
that  child,  allowing  her  to  ride  without  Mat- 
thew. I  am  afraid  she  will  meet  with  some 
fearful  accident  yet.  Madge  is  as  safe  as  a 
horse  can  be;  but  Edith  is  so  reckless,  she 
never  looks  where  she  is  going,  and  now  for 
her  to  remain  out  so  late — it  is  really  un- 
safe." 

"  You  know,  Alice,  I  cannot  help  it.  She 
did  not  like  Matthew  with  her,  and  several 
times  got  rid  of  him  by  dashing  down  side 
roads,  leaving  the  poor  fellow  to  wander  around 
for  hours,  fearing  to  return  without  her.  You 
know  she  has  promised  papa  to  ride  slowly  if 
he  would  allow  her  to  go  alone.  I  envy  her 
that  exuberance  of  spirits  she  possesses,  and 
often  wish  you  had  some  of  it." 

"  But,  mamma,  she  is  large,  and  looks  so 
like  a  girl  of  eighteen.  She  should  try  to  con- 
trol some  of  her  childish  ways ;  but  Miss  Wil- 
son is  so  fond  of  her,  she  is  blind  to  her  faults. 
If  papa  and  Henry  were  more  at  home,  they 
would  soon  discover  room  in  her  for  improve- 
ment. I  do  so  wish  Henry  did  not  have  to  go 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  7 

to  town  every  day.     Will  he  be  obliged  to  be 
away  so  much  during  the  fall,  mamma  ? " 

"  I  hardly  know,  my  dear.  •  Papa  seems 
very  anxious  about  business  lately." 

N ,  easy  of  access  to  the  city,  was  situ- 
ated on  a  superb  bay,  and  commanded  an  ex- 
tensive view.  Airsley,  the  homestead  of  the 
Le  Roys  for  generations,  was  one  of  those 
substantial  old  homes  of  which  our  country 
can  boast  but  a  few.  A  lawn,  covered  with 
mammoth  locusts,  sloped  to  the  water  on  the 
north,  while  on  the  south  a  broad  avenue 
wound  through  a  dense  grove  of  oaks  and 
evergreens  for  fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before 
reaching  the  highway.  Passing  through  a  por- 
tico, entrance  was  had  to  a  large  square  hall, 
at  the  end  of  which  folding-doors  opened  into 
the  library,  where  Mrs.  Le  Roy  and  Alice  were 
anxiously  awaiting  Edith's  return.  Book-cases 
lined  the  walls,  and  the  huge  window  was 
hung  with  crimson  drapery.  The  warm  fire 
blending  with  the  twilight  took  from  the  room 
the  look  of  cold  grandeur,  too  often  seen  in 
houses  of  the  present  day.  Everything  was 


8  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

elegant,  but  at  the  same  time  there  was  an 
air  of  comfort  everywhere  apparent,  even  to 
the  Newfoundland  dog  lying  before  the  fire. 
Alice  had  thrown  herself  into  an  easy-chair ; 
her  mother  reclined  on  a  sofa. 

"  There  is  Edith,  mamma,  laughing  as  usual." 
Rollo  got  up  in  a  lazy  way,  and  met  the  sub- 
ject of  anxiety  as  she  rushed  to  her  mother. 

"  Oh !  mamma,  I  have  had  such  a  funny 
time.  I  knew  you  must  have  been  worried  ; 
but  never  mind  now.  I  have  brought  papa 
and  Henry  as  a  peace-offering.  I  could  not 
help  being  late,  and  will  tell  you  all  about  it 
at  supper.  Alice  is  dying  from  curiosity,  but 
it  must  keep,  my  most  serene  beauty,  for  I 
must  first  get  this  dusty  habit  off,  and  then  for 
the  adventure." 

Catching  up  her  skirt  she  ran  off.  Mr.  Le 
Roy,  a  fine  portly  gentleman  of  fifty,  with  a 
smile  always  on  his  face,  shook  his  head,  and, 
turning  to  his  wife,  said  :  "  What  a  beauty  she 
is,  Lena !  Did  she  not  look  superb,  Henry,  as 
she  dashed  ahead  of  us  into  the  avenue  ?  That 
habit  shows  her  figure  to  advantage." 

"  Your  face,  father,  spoke  your  admiration 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  9 

plainer  than  words,  as  you  lifted  her  off  Madge. 
Such  homage  is  spoiling  her." 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  if  it  is.  I  only  hope  her 
future  may  be  such  as  her  beauty  and  guile- 
lessness  deserve.  Where  will  she  find  a  man 
to  appreciate  her?  Really,  the  condition  of 
the  country  is  getting  to  be  such  that  the 
future  looks  dark  for  every  one  ;  so  let  us  take 
advantage  of  the  present  and  go  to  supper, 
or  Sunshine  will  be  there  first,  and  tell  her 
story  to  John." 

Hardly  were  they  seated  when  Edith  came 
in,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Miss  Wilson,  her  gov- 
erness, laughing  her  out  of  the  reproof  she  was 
trying  to  administer. 

"  Mamma,  I  knew  you  were  wild  to  hear 
my  story,  so  hear  it  is.  I  started  out,  fully 
intending  to  be  back  by  sundown  ;  so  I  only 
went  round  the  meadow  road,  returning  by  the 
beach.  I  found  my  saddle- pocket  full  of  cara- 
mels. Charlie  Barclay  put  them  there  yester- 
day, when  we  were  out  with  the  Allen  girls. 
He  said  girls  could  not  be  out  half  an  hour 
without  candy,  to  keep  them  from  mischief.  I 
would  not  eat  mine  because  he  said  that. 


IO  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

"  Then  I  bet  you  ate  your  share  of  Tutie's 
and  Helen's,"  said  Henry. 

"  There  you  are  again,  Henry ;  you  are 
always  ready  to  bet  something  of  that  sort. 
You,  now,  I  warrant,  smoke  Charlie's  cigars 
when  yours  are  out,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  But  your  candy  was  not  out,  only  you 
wanted  to  save  it  to  eat  all  alone.  It  would 
taste  all  the  sweeter  because  Charlie  gave  it 
you." 

"  Why,  my  little  daughter,  what  does  that 
blush  mean  ?  Is  there  any  association  between 
candy  and  Charlie  ?  " 

"Now,  papa,  Henry  is  real  mean,  and  is 
spoiling  all  my  story.  It  was  not  about  Char- 
lie I  blushed  at  all." 

"  Nevertheless  she  manages  to  get  more  red 
all  the  time,"  Alice  quietly  remarked  to  Miss 
Wilson. 

"  Do  be  quiet,  children,  and  let  us  hear  this 
wonderful  adventure,"  said  Mrs.  Le  Roy,  re- 
questing Edith  to  go  on. 

"  Well,  I  found  the  candy ;  so  I  walked 
Madge  while  I  ate  some,  as  I  could  not  eat 
caramels  and  canter  at  the  same  time.  It 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  II 

must  have  become  dark  very  soon  ;  as  it  only 
seemed  a  few  moments  until  the  sun  began  to 
disappear  behind  the  bluff.  Then  I  touched 
Madge  up  and  galloped  as  fast  as  I  could, 
when,  just  as  I  got  over  Laurel  Hill  she  stum- 
bled and  went  on  her  knees.  While  she  was 
down  I  jumped  off,  fearing  she  was  hurt.  She 
was  up  in  a  moment,  however,  all  right.  Know- 
ing it  was  my  fault  for  galloping  up  hill,  I 
thought  I  would  pet  her  ;  so,  offering  her  a 
piece  of  candy,  I  took  my  handkerchief  and 
was  occupied  in  brushing  the  dust  from  her 
nose,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I  heard  a  voice,  and 
the  next  moment  a  gentleman  stood  beside  me. 
Having  been  so  interested  with  Madge,  I  had 
not  heard  the  quiet  rumble  of  the  barouche 
which  carried  the  stranger.  '  You  are  evidently 
not  hurt,  miss ;  but  is  your  horse  injured, 
that  you  are  paying  him  such  delicate  atten- 
tion ?  ' 

"  I  was  ever  so  confused  at  being  found  in 
such  a  plight,  and  I  hardly  know  what  I  said  ; 
only  I  believe  I  thanked  him  and  answered, 
1  Oh,  it  is  nothing.  Madge  stumbled,  and  I 
have  been  letting  her  rest  a  moment.' 


12  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Then  he  asked  me  to  get  into  his  carriage 
and  he  would  drive  me  home,  and  the  footman 
could  lead  Madge.  With  that  I  looked  di- 
rectly at  him,  and  I  verily  believe  it  was  Mr. 
Gantly  of  the  Manor.  Is  he  home,  papa  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  heard  so  to-day ;  but  what  did  you 
say  to  his  offer  ?  " 

"  Now,  Henry  will  laugh  at  me  again,  for  I 
mixed  myself  all  up.  I  said  Madge  was  not  I 
tired,  and  am  certain  I  blushed,  for  I  had  no 
sooner  uttered  the  words  than  I  saw  the  mis- 
take, and  remembered  having  told  him  of  let- 
ting Madge  rest.  Then  he  proposed  that  I 
should  ride  beside  his  carriage,  upon  which  I 
said  I  was  going  the  other  way.  He  proposed 
finally  that  I  should  allow  him  to  aid  me  to 
mount,  and  did  it  in  such  a  very  gallant  way 
that  of  course  I  was  obliged  to  let  him.  He 
then  raised  his  hat,  and  remarked  as  I  grasped 
the  reins,  '  I  see  you  and  your  horse  understand 
each  other.  She  is  waiting  for  the  word  to  go, 
and  as  I  can  be  of  no  further  assistance,  I  will 
bid  you  good  evening  and  wish  you  a  pleasant 
ride.'  With  that  I  turned  Madge  and  dashed 
off  in  the  other  direction,  not  daring  to  follow 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  13 

him.  So  I  went  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  again, 
which  accounts  for  my  being  so  late." 

"  There  is  nothing  strange  in  your  story, 
Edith,  except  your  ungracious  manner  of  re- 
ceiving Mr.  Gantly's  kind  offers,  if  it  were  really 
he  whom  you  met,"  said  Alice. 

"  Had  you  been  caught  rubbing  your  horse's 
nose  with  your  handkerchief,"  replied  Edith, 
"  I  think  you  would  have  been  quite  as  much 
confused  as  I  was." 

"  Not  quite  as  much,  I  hope,  my  dear.  But 
tell  me  what  Mr.  Gantly  is  like.  He  has  been 
away  ever  so  long,  some  six  years,  I  believe. 
I  remember  I  was  quite  a  little  girl  when  I  saw 
him  last.  He  must  look  almost  as  old  as  papa." 

"  Oh,  no,  he  doesn't ;  he  has  not  a  gray  hair." 

"  Is  that  your  idea  of  age,  Edith  ?  I  hope 
you  can  tell  me  if  he  is  handsome." 

"  Oh,  dear!  how  can  I  tell ?  " 

"  Then  you  have  lost  the  faculty  in  twenty- 
four  hours,"  said  Henry.  "  I  heard  you  criticis- 
ing two  of  your  dear  friends  very  severely  to 
Miss  Wilson  only  yesterday." 

"  But,  Henry,  Mr.  Gantly  is  different  from 
any  one  I  ever  saw.  He  is  something  one 


14  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.V 

does  not  know  exactly  how  to  describe.  Oh! 
I  have  it :  he  looks  like  John  Halifax." 

"  So  ho !  when  did  the  little  girl  meet  John? " 

"  Please,  papa,  do  not  make  fun  of  every- 
thing I  say.  Miss  Wilson  and  I  have  been 
reading  Halifax,  and  we  think  him  just  perfect ; 
do  we  not,  Miss  Wilson  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  express  my  opinion,  Edith." 

"  Do,  Edith,  let  some  one  else  talk  a  little 
while,"  said  Alice.  "  Please  tell  us,  papa,  about 
Mr.  Gantly.  I  have  often  wondered  why  he  trav- 
eled so  much,  and  never  seemed  to  have  any 
relations.  You  have  known  him  for  years,  and 
so  ought  to  be  able  to  tell  us  something  about 
him." 

"As  to  your  first  question,  why,  as  far  as  I 
am  able  to  judge,  he  finds  travel  more  pleasant 
than  being  at  home  alone." 

"  But,  father,"  said  Henry,  "  he  is  not  alone. 
His  lawyer,  or  whatever  he  calls  him,  seems 
always  to  be  with  him." 

"True,  my  son  ;  but  one  tires  of  the  constant 
companionship  of  a  -single  person,  unless  one 
is  occupied ;  and  Gantly  knows  nothing  at  all 
about  business.  Mr.  Parish  attends  to  every- 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  15 

thing  for  him.  He  was  his  chum  in  college, 
and  one  of  the  lawyers  in  the  lawsuit  in  which 
he  was  so  long  engaged.  By  the  way,  that 
same  suit  proved  the  cause  of  Mr.  Gantly's 
being  on  unfriendly  terms  with  his  family.  At 
his  father's  death  he  was  abroad,  and  the  will 
left  by  his  father  was  in  some  way  made  so  as 
to  leave  in  trust  the  homestead  and  other  prop- 
erty, which  was  to  be  his  ultimately ;  his  uncle 
being  in  actual  possession.  Gantly  contested 
the  will,  and  won,  after  a  number  of  years  of 
litigation,  since  which  time  Parish  has  had  en- 
tire charge  of  all  his  business.  What  I  knew 
of  him  as  a  boy,  some  years  younger  than  my- 
self, was  that  he  was  always  a  fine  fellow,  very 
generous,  and  always  took  the  side  of  the  weak 
and  oppressed.  His  tastes  were  refined.  He 
played,  painted,  and  was  educated  a  physician ; 
but  what  he  is  like  now  I  am  unable  to  say.  I 
doubt  if  he  would  even  remember  me." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  at  any  rate  it  is  your  place 
to  call  on  him,  as  he  has  been  away ; "  said 
Mrs.  Le  Roy. 

"  Now,  Lena,  do  please  spare  me.  You 
know  that  I  am  not  a  calling  man." 


16  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

"  I  will  relieve  you  of  that,  father,"  said 
Henry.  "  I  am  anxious  to  shoot  in  his  woods, 
and  will  make  it  an  excuse  to  call,  with  Edith's 
permission.  Don't  pout,  miss,  it  makes  your 
chin  such  a  funny  shape,  and  I  will  promise  not 
to  tell  Charlie.  By  the  way,  Willie  Jerome  is 
coming  over  to  play  billiards  to-night  on  his 
own  invitation.  I  cannot  like  that  fellow  ;  he 
will  push  himself  where  he  is  not  wanted,  and 
he  is  very  fond  of  looking  at  the  girls  in  that 
fascinating  way  I  do  not  admire." 

"  Use  the  singular,  if  you  please,  Henry. 
He  rarely  looks  at  me ;  it  is  to  Edith  his  atten- 
tions are  paid." 

"  Oh,  you  poor  little  neglected  one,  does 
no  one  pay  her  any  attention  ? "  said  Henry. 
'"  Well,  we  will  bring  the  lord  of  the  Manor 
down  for  you.  I  say,  mamma,  capital  idea! 
we  will  ask  him  to  the  next  musical.  When 
will  it  be,  Miss  Wilson  ?  " 

"  Next  week,  I  believe,  if  convenient  to  your 
mother." 

"  What  evening,  mamma,  quick,  nothing  like 
business,  even  in  society  matters,  Oh,  heav- 
ens !  there's  Jerome's  horse,  sure  as  fate." 


ALL   ABOUT   EDITH.  I/ 

"  Well,  Henry,  Wednesday  will  suit  me  very 
well." 

"Then  Wednesday  it  shall  be.  I  declare 
John  is  bringing  that  fellow  in  here." 

The  words  were  hardly  spoken  when  the 
door  opened,  and  a  young  man  of  five-and- 
twenty,  with  the  most  perfect  ease,  and  "  at- 
home  "  sort  of  air,  came  forward.  He  could 
see  himself  reflected  in  the  mirror  that  ex- 
tended the  length  of  the  beaufet,  and  a  face 
never  more  plainly  expressed  perfect  satisfac- 
tion with  one's  own  appearance  than  did  his. 
He  certainly  was  handsome,  and  thoroughly 
knew  how  to  make  himself  a  friend  with  ladies. 
Skilfully  concealed  egotism  was  a  characteristic 
of  his  conversation,  together  with  an  easy  man- 
ner of  telling  the  person  whom  he  talked  with 
that  he  or  she  was  all  in  the  world  that  he  cared 
for.  What  more  dangerous  trait  can  there  be 
in  a  man  who  is  thrown  among  girls  just  bud- 
ding into  womanhood,  when  the  heart  is  so 
susceptible.  Bowing  to  all,  he  walked  to  Mrs. 
Le  Roy,  remarking,  "  I  hope  you  will  excuse 
me,  dear  madam,  for  following  John  in  ;  but  the 
fascinating  picture  I  saw  through  the  window 


1 8  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

made  the  temptation  irresistible.  I  am  glad  to 
see  you  looking  so  much  better  this  evening." 

"  Thank  you,  I  am  feeling  right  well.  I  fear 
I  must  offer  you  rather  cold  coffee.  We  have 
lingered  so  long,  it  has  been  neglected." 

"  Not  any,  thank  you.  I  have  just  finished 
dinner." 

"  But  your  ride  may  have  tired  you." 

"  In  which  case  all  the  stimulus  I  require  is 
your  charming  society." 

"  How  jolly  this  is,  girls,"  said  Henry. 
"  Will  is  going  to  devote  himself  exclusively 
to  mamma,  so  we  will  go  and  play  billiards." 

Mr.  Le  Roy,  seeing  his  wife  was  rather  trou- 
bled by  Henry's  sarcastic  remark,  requested  her 
to  go  with  him  into  the  library,  and  examine 
some  new  books  he  had  just  purchased.  "  You 
young  people  amuse  yourselves  with  billiards 
for  awhile  ;  then  we  will  have  some  music." 

"I'm  agreeable ;  come  along,  Edith,"  an- 
swered Henry.  "  Look  at  mother  and  Will, 
Edith.  There  they  are  at  church  work  again. 
I  verily  believe  that  fellow  is  a  hypocrite.  I  do 
not  hear  the  best  accounts  of  him  in  town." 

"  Now,  Henry,  how  very  unkind.     Because 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  19 

he  is  a  favorite  and  dresses  a  little  more  than 
is  necessary  in  the  country,  you  are  all  down 
on  him.  But  I'll  stick  up  for  him  ;  for  he  is  the 
only  one  that  knows  enough  to  pay  a  little  girl, 
as  you  call  me,  any  attention." 

"  Quite  right,  Edith  ;  he  does  pay  you  atten- 
tion, and  more  than  I  like  ;  and  what's  more, 
you  must  not  accept  it  any  longer.  You  will 
soon  be  in  society,  and  then  it  will  be  a  great 
disadvantage  to  have  him  so  intimate  with  you. 
Charlie  Barclay,  the  last  day  we  were  sailing, 
was  ever  so  much  provoked  at  him.  He  told 
me  afterward  he  never  was  so  angry  in  his  life." 

"  Oh  !  bother  ;  Charlie  is  so  high  tempered  ; 
he  gets  angry  at  almost  anything." 

"  I  beg  pardon,  Edith  ;  I  consider  it  some- 
thing— your  allowing  gentlemen  to  pull  your 
hair;  and  then  again,  what  was  the  necessity 
of  his  holding  your  hand  in  his,  to  show  you 
when  to  throw  your  line  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  here  they  come.  I  declare  Alice 
has  enlisted  him  into  her  missionary  society  ; 
she  has  just  put  down  his  name." 

Henry  walked  up  to  Alice,  and  taking  her 
hand,  congratulated  her  on  her  success. 


2O  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  I  declare,  Will,  this  is  turning  over  a  new 
leaf.  Was  Alice  so  fascinating,  or  do  you 
consider  it  a  speculation  ?  " 

"  You  hit  it  right  that  time.  There  is  no 
other  dissipation  in  the  country  at  this  season 
of  the  year,  except  going  to  church,  getting  up 
church  frolics,  and  flirting  on  the  way  home." 

"  Mr.  Jerome,  I  must  protest  against  the  ex- 
pression of  such  views.  Could  you  visit  among 
the  poor  of  our  parish,  you  would  soon  see  the 
necessity  of  church  work,  and  workers  also.  It 
is  all  very  easy  to  stand  in  your  drawing-rooms 
and  say  it  is  the  fashion  ;  but  the  rector  and 
visiting  members  see  the  distress." 

"  But  are  these  people  worthy,  Miss  Le 
Roy?  Have  they  not  squandered  their  money 
to  bring  on  their  destitution  ?  " 

"  We  do  not  take  care  of  such.  Dr.  Cutler 
knows  each  family,  the  worthy  and  unworthy." 

The  mills  have  been  closed  for  some  months, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  days,  and  how  can 
they  live  without  money  ?  " 

"Well,  I  will  go  to  the  next  meeting  and 
give  my  mite.  But  our  game  has  been  forgot- 
ten." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  21 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  all  laughing 
merrily  over  Edith's  strokes.  They  were  as 
wild  as  if  she  had  never  handled  a  cue,  and 
Henry  declared  he  would  not  play  any  longer 
unless  she  did  better. 

"  I  was  out  so  late,  I  am  tired,  and  you  all 
annoy  me  so.  I  am  as  nervous  as  I  can  be," 
answered  Edith  fretfully. 

"  Allow  me  to  steady  your  cue  for  you,"  said 
Mr.  Jerome,  coming  over  to  Edith,  and  almost 
putting  his  arm  around  her.  Edith  looked  up, 
and  catching  her  brother's  eye,  dropped  her 
cue,  declaring  she  was  too  tired  to  play  any 
longer. 

Alice,  seeing  that  Henry  was  displeased, 
came  to  the  rescue,  and  begged  Mr.  Jerome 
to  excuse  them,  explaining  that  Edith's  horse 
had  not  behaved  well  during  her  afternoon 
ride,  so  mamma  thought  she  had  better  retire 
early. 

"  By  all  means  ;  "  replied  Mr.  Jerome.  "  Hen- 
ry and  I  can  amuse  ourselves  very  well  with 
a  cigar.  But,  Miss  Edith,  you  must  let  me 
give  Madge  some  lessons  on  good  behavior 
again.  She  seemed  a  little  afraid  of  my  spur." 


22  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

"  Thank  you  ;  but  I  can  manage  her.  It 
was  all  my  own  fault.  Good  evening,  and  be 
sure  to  come  to  the  musical,  Wednesday."  And 
with  these  words  Edith  left  the  room. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  23 


CHAPTER   II. 


"  The  beginning  of  an  acquaintance,  whether  with  persons 
or  things,  is  to  get  a  definite  outline  of  our  ignorance." 


BOUT  sunset  on  the  following  day, 
Alice,  Edith,  and  Miss  Wilson,  return- 
ing from  a  walk,  met  Henry  at  the 
lodge  gate  with  his  dog. 

"  Now,  Alice,  we  will  see  what  Henry  thinks 
of  my  hero,"  said  Edith,  taking  her  brother's 
arm  ;  "  is  he  not  nice,  Henry  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  cannot  say  ;  he  seems  very  gentle- 
manly, but  rather  sad  and  quiet." 

"  Did  you  keep  your  promise,  and  not  tell 
him  it  was  your  sister  who  treated  him  so 
rudely  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  Well,  I  hope  he  will  not  recognize  me  ;  but 
will  he  come  on  Wednesday  ?  " 

"  He  cannot  promise.  He  is  obliged  to  go 
to  the  city  to-morrow,  and  may  not  return 


24  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

until  late  Wednesday  evening  ;  but  if  nothing 
happens  to  prevent,  will  be  most  happy  to  be 
at  your  musical." 

"  Now  I  hope  you  are  satisfied,  Edith,  I  want 
Henry  to  tell  me  what  the  house  is  like,  and 
what  his  tastes  seem  to  be." 

"  As  for  the  outside,  you've  both  seen  that 
often.  Isn't  it  a  fine  piece  of  architecture !  It 
is  simply  magnificent.  I  do  not  know  why, 
but  it  seems  to  be  different  each  time  I  see  it, 
and  Mr.  Gantly  says  it  is  so  with  him  ;  every 
day  it  appears  more  beautiful.  The  place 
wants  trimming  up,  as  he  confesses,  and  also 
some  one  to  make  it  lively.  I  wish  you  could 
see  the  inside.  The  hall,  as  you  enter  is  grand. 
Instead  of  ending  in  a  library,  like  ours,  it  ex- 
tends through  the  house,  and  the  massive  wind- 
ing stairs  are  off  one  side.  The  room  I  was 
ushered  into  was  a  library,  very  large,  with 
quantities  of  books  and  pictures.  On  one  side 
the  fire-place  took  up  almost  all  the  space.  A 
wood  fire  was  smouldering  on  the  heavy  brass 
andirons,  while  a  setter  dog  was  asleep  on  the 
rug.  At  the  other  end  of  the  room  was  an  or- 
gan, at  which  Mr.  Gantly  was  seated.  I  could 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  2$ 

only  catch  a  few  notes  as  I  came  in,  but  they 
were  enough  to  make  me  believe  him  a  master 
of  the  instrument." 

"  How  splendid,  Miss  Wilson ;  we  can  get 
him  to  play  for  us  in  church  some  time.  It 
would  be  such  a  relief  to  you." 

"  I  declare,  Alice,  you  appropriate  every- 
body and  everything  for  that  church." 

"  Well,  Henry,  is  not  that  a  part  of  my 
duty?" 

"  Perhaps  so  ;  but  let  the  man  get  fairly  at 
home  first." 

"  I  certainly  do  not  intend  to  go  after  him, 
but  if  I  get  an  opportunity  I  shall  try  and  ac- 
complish my  end.  Is  there  anything  wrong 
in  that,  Miss  Wilson?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Oh !  while  I  think  of  it,  Henry,  I  have 
some  news  you  will  rejoice  over.  I  wrote  for 
Maggie  Allen  to  come  and  spend  a  few  weeks 
with  us,  and  she  accepts,  and  will  be  here 
Tuesday." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it.  We  must  try 
to  get  up  something  for  her ;  but  I  shall  have 
to  go  to  the  city  almost  every  day  for  some 

2 


26  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

time.  Father  is  much  driven  with  business, 
and  seems  to  like  to  have  me  go  with  him. 
We  can  have  jolly  evenings,  however,  and  I 
will  try  and  stay  home  Saturdays,  so  that  Edith 
may  be  with  us.  She  must  lose  no  more  les- 
sons, Miss  Wilson." 

"  Oh,  lessons !  lessons !  those  eternal  les- 
sons !  I  am  heartily  tired  of  them,  and  those 
musicals  are  the  very  dread  of  my  life.  I 
am  not  allowed  to  dance  and  have  a  good 
time ;  and  then  to  be  called  in,  just  to  show 
off  one's  playing,  is  simply  abominable.  I 
am  sure  I  shall  break  down  Wednesday.  The 
very  idea  of  Mr.  Gantly  being  there  will  be 
enough  to  frighten  one  to  death." 

"Well,  that  is  strange,  Edith.  I  thought 
you  considered  him  so  perfect." 

"I'm  sure  I  didn't  say  so ;  how  am  I  to 
know  ?  " 

"You  compared  him  to  Halifax,  and  you 
said  you  considered  him  perfect." 

"  Then  that  is  sufficient  reason  to  be  afraid 
of  him.  He  seems  to  see  right  through  one, 
and  I'm  sure  he  knows  all  about  every  thing." 

"  I  must  differ  with  you,  Edith.     If  he  knew 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  27 

every  thing,  he  would  never  trust  all  his  busi- 
ness to  Mr.  Parish,  or  any  other  man.  From 
what  I  can  judge  of  him,  he  is  a  thoroughly 
educated  gentleman ;  but,  from  a  remark  he 
made,  seems  to  place  too  much  confidence  in 
the  honesty  of  men." 

"  Why,  I  think  that's  splendid,"  Edith  ex- 
claimed. "  It  is  horrible  to  suspect  every  one." 

"  The  world  is  very  selfish,  Edith.  Men 
seem  to  forget  the  bonds,  either  of  friendship 
or  honesty  when  money  has  any  thing  to  do 
with  their  transactions." 


28  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER  III. 

'  Notitian  primosque  gradus  vicinia  fecit." 

OVID. 

'  The  blush,  perhaps,  was  maiden's  shame, — 

As  such  it  well  may  pass  : 
Though  its  glow  hath  raised  a  fiercer  flame 
In  the  breast  of  him,  alas." 

POE. 


EDNESDAY  proved  a  lovely  day. 
Henry  stayed  at  home  in  honor  of 
Miss  Allen's  arrival.  She  was  like  a 
member  of  the  family.  Her  parents  had  owned 
the  adjoining,  park,  but,  in  consequence  of  the 
ill-health  of  her  mother,  had  been  obliged  to 
give  it  up  and  remove  to  the  city.  It  had 
been  a  source  of  great  regret  to  Maggie,  as, 
being  an  only  child,  she  had  spent  the  greater 
part  of  her  life  with  the  Le  Roys,  and  they 
all  loved  her  as  one  of  themselves.  She  formed 
a  perfect  contrast  with  Alice  and  Edith,  their 
style  of  beauty  being  that  which  entrances, 
with  black  hair  and  eyes,  while  hers  was  be- 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  29 

wildering,  with  the  glamour  of  hair  almost 
flaxen,  and  eyes  of  blue.  No  more  accurate 
description  could  be  given  of  her  than  Tenny- 
son's lines, 

"  A  daughter  of  the  gods, 
Divinely  tall,  and  most  divinely  fair." 

The  day  was  occupied  with  visiting  the  old 
familiar  spots,  a  short  sail,  decorating  the  draw- 
ing-room with  flowers,  and  a  rehearsal  of  the 
music  for  the  evening.  Edith  was  not  at  all 
at  ease.  She  knew  the  Gordon  girls  would 
play  better  than  she  possibly  could ;  they  had 
so  much  more  confidence.  After  some  per- 
suasion Maggie  had  consented  to  take  a  part 
in  a  trio  they  had  frequently  played  together. 
Their  friends  had  all  heard  it  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Mr.  Gantly  ;  but  Miss  Wilson  thought 
it  would  be  good  to  start  with,  as  it  would 
give  Edith  confidence.  Every  thing  was  ready. 
The  drawing-room  was  lighted  ;  Miss  Wilson 
was  running  over  some  accompaniments  ;  Alice, 
Maggie,  and  Henry  were  having  an  animated 
discussion  over  the  last  novel,  when  Mrs.  Le 
Roy  made  her  appearance  with  Edith,  who 


3O  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

looked  more  like  a  subject  for  a  sick  room 
than  a  musical. 

"  Miss  Wilson,  will  you  take  Edith  into  the 
library  and  brighten  her  up,  while  I  receive  the 
guests?  I  am  afraid  she  is  going  to  have  a 
nervous  headache." 

"  Why,  Edith/'  said  Miss  Wilson,  "  what  is 
the  matter?  You  are  as  white  as  a  sheet. 
Have  you  seen  a  ghost,  or  do  you  expect  to 
see  one  ?  " 

"Just  in  time,  Charlie,"  exclaimed  Henry, 
going  to  welcome  a  young  man  who  had  en- 
tered the  room,  "  Edith  wants  brushing  up ;  you 
go  and  tease  her." 

"  Henry,  do  stop  worrying  your  sister.  Char- 
lie, if  you  will,  you  may  go  with  Miss  Wilson 
and  Edith  into  the  library,  for  I  know  that  your 
fun  will  bring  the  roses  back  to  her  cheeks  if 
any  thing  will.  There  !  I  hear  a  carriage.  Re- 
member, Miss  Wilson,  music  is  to  begin 
promptly  at  eight." 

Charlie  followed  Miss  Wilson  and  Edith  into 
the  library.  Young  Barclay  was  one  of  those 
right  jolly,  unselfish,  and  open-hearted  young 
fellows  one  sometimes  meets  with.  He  was 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  31 

tall,  but  not  robust,  with  jet  black  hair  and 
mustache.  He  was  an  only  son.  His  mother 
had  been  an  invalid  for  years,  and  Charlie  had 
been  brought  up  to  pay  her  every  attention, 
which  he  did  in  a  most  considerate  manner. 
In  fact,  he  seemed  to  manifest  the  same  bear- 
ing toward  all  ladies  ;  so  that,  by  common  con- 
sent, a  delicate  lady,  or  one  requiring  much 
attention,  always  fell  to  his  care.  Leading 
Edith  to  a  comfortable  seat  by  the  fire,  he 
handed  Miss  Wilson  a  chair ;  and,  in  the  most 
natural  manner,  told  her  all  the  city  news,  draw- 
ing her  attention  from  Edith,  until  she  was 
composed.  Then  he  talked  about  a  plan  he 
had  for  going  to  Europe  and  completing  his 
course  in  medicine.  His  mother,  he  said,  op- 
posed this,  as  she  wished  him  to  remain  with 
her.  So  he  endeavored  not  to  think  of  it  seri- 
ously. Edith  was  fond  of  new  plans,  and 
Charlie  always  found  in  her  a  willing  listener. 
They  were  soon  earnestly  talking  about  the 
possibility  of  inducing  Mrs.  Barclay  to  let  him 
go  for  three  months.  Then  he  could  extend 
his  leave  of  absence,  should  his  mother  get  no 
worse. 


32  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Oh,  do  get  her  consent  to  this  plan,  Char- 
lie. I  know  she  will  agree  to  it." 

"  But  you  seem  more  anxious  than  usual  to 
have  me  go,  Edith.  You  have  always  said 
that  you  would  miss  your  tease." 

"  So  I  shall  miss  you  ever  so  much,  you  are 
always  so  kind  and  thoughtful  to  the  little 
girl ;  and  I  hate  so  to  be  taken  to  task  because 
gentlemen  talk  to  me.  Henry  is  over-par- 
ticular." 

"He  is  perfectly  right,  Edith.  You  are  not 
really  the  little  girl  you  call  yourself.  I  grant 
that  you  are  young ;  but  because  your  friends 
like  myself,  who  have  played  in  the  same 
nursery,  call  you  Edith,  it  does  not  follow  that 
others  should  have  the  same  privilege." 

"  I  cannot  see  why." 

"  No ;  but  you  will  after  a  few  years,  and 
then  will  thank  Henry.  But  here  comes  your 
father  with  a  stranger.  I  will  finish  this  con- 
versation before  I  go  to  Europe." 

"  I  dare  say  you  will,"  said  Edith,  mischiev- 
ously, "  for  I  doubt  if  you  ever  go." 

"  I  do  not  boast  of  an  extensive  library," 
remarked  Mr.  Le  Roy,  as  he  led  the  way  into 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  33 

the  room,  "  yet  I  take  it  as  a  comfortable  one, 
both  for  the  mind  and  body." 

"  I  should  judge  so,"  said  Mr.  Gantly,  slight- 
ly changing  color,  and  bowing  to  Edith.  "  Will 
you  honor  me  with  an  introduction  to  this 
young  lady  ?  then  I  will  apologize  for  a  second 
time  disturbing  her  tete-a-tete. 

"  Why,  this  is  my  daughter  Edith.  Edith, 
this  is  Mr.  Gantly  of  the  manor.  Mr.  Barclay, 
Mr.  Gantly ;  but  why  these  blushes  ?  I  declare, 
Gantly,  you  are  as  red  as  Edith." 

"  Really,  papa,  I  am  afraid  I  have  some 
cause  ;  but — but  you  know  I  did  not  know  you 
when  we  met  the  other  day,  Mr.  Gantly." 

"  And  you  know  I  did  not  know  you,  Miss  Le 
Roy.  I  am  really  astonished  to  find  that  the 
young  lady  who  treated  my  overtures  of  assist- 
ance so  cavalierly,  and  my  friend's  daughter, 
are  one  and  the  same  person.  Had  I  suspect- 
ed for  a  moment  that  you  were  Miss  Le  Roy, 
you  would  not  have  been  rid  of  me  so  easily 
as  you  were,  I  assure  you.  But  I  suppose  you 
wanted  to  wipe  your  horse's  nose  with  that  cam- 
bric handkerchief,  more  than  you  wanted  the 
companionship  of  an  old  gentleman  like  myself." 


34  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Gantly,  you  are  more  than  severe. 
Madge's  nose  was  dusty,  and  she  does  not  look 
nicely  with  a  dusty  nose.  And  then  you  are 
not  old.  Suppose  you  were,  I  like  old  gentle- 
men." 

"  I  suppose  that  is  a  hint  for  me  to  leave," 
said  Charlie,  trying  to  look  annoyed. 

"  By  no  means,  Mr.  Barclay.  But  I  suggest 
that  we  all  get  dusty  noses,  and  see  if  we  will 
receive  the  same  attention  as  Madge.  I  can 
assure  you,  Mr.  Le  Roy,  it  was  a  sight  well 
worth  seeing." 

"  Now  that  is  too  bad,  Mr.  Gantly.  I  shall 
never  forgive  you.  Come,  Charlie,  they  want 
me  in  the  drawing-room,"  so  taking  Barclay's 
arm,  they  left  the  two  elder  gentlemen  to  their 
books. 

Edith  had  forgotten  herself  so  completely 
that  she  played  with  more  that  usual  self-pos- 
session, and  succeeded  accordingly.  After  a 
time  Henry,  Willie  Jerome,  and  two  of  their 
college  friends  proposed  some  glees  ;  but  as 
the  books  had  been  loaned,  Edith  was  without 
notes.  After  making  a  number  of  attempts 
to  improvise,  she  gave  up  in  despair,  and  was 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  35 

turning  from  the  piano  to  apologize,  when  she 
saw  Mr.  Gantly,  and  remembering  what  Henry 
had  said  about  his  playing,  she  asked  him  in 
the  most  winning  manner  if  he  would  not  do 
something  for  her. 

"  But  I  thought  I  was  your  enemy,  and  was 
never  to  be  forgiven." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  about  that.  But  if  you  will 
grant  me  this  favor,  I  will  both  forget  and  for- 
give." 

"  Tell  me  what  I  am  to  do." 

"  Only  make  up  some  accompaniments  for 
the  glees.  I  can  get  along  when  I  have  notes, 
but  cannot  draw  on  my  imagination." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  am  able?  " 

"  Henry  told  me  that  you  played  the  or- 
gan. So,  of  course,  you  can  do  such  an  easy 
thing  as  this." 

"  Well,  Miss  Flatterer,  we  will  make  a  bar- 
gain. I  will  play  the  accompaniments  if  you 
will  sing  a  song  for  me.  I  lost  the  last  one. 
Your  father  and  I  were  so  deeply  interested  in 
talking  over  old  days  that  I  only  caught  a  few 
notes." 

"  I  suppose  I  must ;  but    if  you   only  knew 


36  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  sing  before  strangers 
you  would  not  ask  it." 

"  Undoubtedly  I  would.  For  any  one  to  sing 
well  must  overcome  that  timidity,  and  the  only 
way  to  do  is  to  sing  before  strangers  constantly." 

So,  taking  his  place  at  the  piano,  Mr.  Gantly 
struck  a  few  chords  ;  then  asking  Henry  what 
they  wanted  first,  with  the  most  perfect  ease 
he  played  one  after  another  of  the  college 
songs.  Every  one  was  delighted,  as  it  took 
away  all  the  stiffness  of  the  evening.  Edith 
sang  very  well,  and  although  her  voice  trem- 
bled somewhat,  yet  it  did  not  detract  from  its 
sweetness.  Mr.  Gantly  seemed  much  pleased, 
but  rather  sad.  He  told  Edith  it  brought  old 
scenes  so  vividly  before  him.  His  favorite  sis- 
ter sang  well,  and  he  had  always .  accompanied 
her,  and  she  in  return  played  his  accompani- 
ments for  the  cornet ;  but  now  he  had  to  play 
alone. 

"  Why  no,  you  need  not,"  said  Edith  ;  "  bring 
your  instrument  down  here,  and  Miss  Wilson 
will  play  with  you.  It  would  be  a  splendid  ar- 
rangement ;  I  am  so  fond  of  the  cornet.  Do 
bring  it  to-morrow  evening,  won't  you  ?  " 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  37 

Meanwhile  Maggie  had  been  having  a  des- 
perate flirtation  with  Jerome.  In  consequence 
of  this,  Henry  had  no  evening  lecture  for  Edith. 
He  manifested  considerable  annoyance,  but 
Maggie  was  the  guilty  party  this  time.  It  was 
generally  understood  that  he  was  as  good  as 
engaged  to  Maggie  ;  so  it  may  be  surmised  he 
had  sufficient  cause  for  his  uneasiness.  After 
the  guests  had  departed,  all  seemed  tired  and 
occupied  with  their  own  thoughts,  and  in  this 
mood  they  parted  for  the  night. 


38  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"  Where  is  the  man  who  has  the  power  and  skill 
To  stem  the  torrent  of  a  woman's  will  ? 
For  if  she  will,  she  will,  you  may  depend  on't ; 
And  if  she  won't,  she  won't,  so  there's  an  end  on't." 

LINES  FROM  A  PILLAR. 

UT,  Henry,  we  were  to  have  had  a 
horseback  ride  this  morning.  Charlie 
and  Mr.  Jerome  are  coming  over ;  so 
if  you  don't  go,  we  shall  have  an  odd  number." 

"  Very  true,  Alice  ;  but  I  must  go  to  the  city 
nevertheless.  Father  wants  me." 

"  What  shall  we  do,  Maggie  ?  Henry  says 
he  must  go  to  town  this  morning,  and  that  will 
break  up  our  riding  party,  for  an  odd  number 
is  always  awkward." 

"  Alice,  you  are  a  poor  manager.  I  know 
of  a  remedy.  Send  Matthew  with  a  note  up  to 
Mr.  Gantly,  for  he  rides  splendidly.  I  have 
seen  him  on  the  avenue  for  two  weeks  past, 
and  have  often  wondered  who  he  was." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  39 

Matthew  was  accordingly  dispatched  with  a 
note,  and  in  due  time  returned  with  an  accept- 
ance of  the  invitation. 

About  eleven  o'clock  the  party  started  off 
in  great  glee.  Mr.  Gantly,  with  Alice,  took 
the  lead,  Maggie  and  Mr.  Jerome  came  next ; 
then  Charlie  with  Edith.  They  took  a  long 
ride,  and  on  their  return  Mr.  Gantly  suggested 
their  going  through  his  place,  and  that  he 
would  show  the  party  over  the  house.  All 
were  delighted  with  the  plan,  and  turned  their 
horses  in  that  direction.  The  approach  from 
the  village  was  one  of  the  finest  in  the  coun- 
try. For  a  quarter  of  a  mile  it  wound  up 
a  hill,  through  a  thick  wood  of  fine  old  oak 
and  forest  trees,  and  then  entered  abruptly  on 
an  extensive  plateau,  overlooking  for  miles 
the  surrounding  country  and  bay.  The  view 
could  not  be  surpassed,  and  exclamations  of  de- 
light came  from  all  the  members  of  the  party. 
After  dismounting,  they  visited  the  grapery 
and  hot-houses,  and  lastly  the  house.  Alice 
was  delighted  with  the  organ.  Edith,  of  course, 
wanted  to  hear  the  cornet,  and  upon  Mr. 
Gantly  saying  that  it  was  in  his  "  bedlam,"  all 


40  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

begged  him  to  show  them  the  place  ;  for  a  real 
bachelor's  bedlam  was,  as  they  agreed,  a  thing 
of  wondrous  rarity,  not  at  all  to  be  lightly 
treated  as  a  thing  of  mere  curiosity.  Accord- 
ingly he  led  the  way  to  the  top  of  the  house, 
and  ushered  them  into  a  large  room,  situated  in 
one  of  the  wings,  and  having  windows  on  three 
sides.  Bedlam  hardly  described  the  room.  No 
less  than  half  a  dozen  musical  instruments  were 
scattered  around ;  a  half-finished  oil  painting 
rested  on  one  easel  and  a  crayon  of  a  dog  on 
another ;  the  principal  table  was  covered  with 
carvings  and  sawings ;  on  the  walls  were  designs 
for  brackets,  book-cases,  chairs,  and  all  kinds 
of  fancy  articles,  while  a  strongly  made  table, 
holding  a  pile  of  clay  and  a  number  of  partly 
finished  models  of  heads,  hands,  and  other  ob- 
jects, conspicuous  among  which  was  the  model 
of  a  cat,  occupied  the  further  corner.  In  short 
it  seemed  "  chaos  is  come  again."  The  whole 
party  were  delighted  with  the  odd,  mixed-up 
appearance  of  things  ;  and  their  host  then  and 
there  received  orders  for  carving,  painting,  and 
modeling  sufficient  in  number  and  require- 
ments to  astound  any  professional  artisan.  He 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  41 

laughingly  took  them,  but  said  he  feared  they 
would  come  short  of  accomplishment,  for  he 
rarely  finished  any  thing  he  began,  as  he  was 
liable  to  tire  of  it,  having  to  labor  under  the 
so  unsatisfactory  circumstance  of  never  hav- 
ing the  work  criticized. 

"  Oh !  if  that  is  all,  we  will  do  that  much," 
said  Maggie.  "  Now  I  want  you  to  model  my 
hand,  Mr.  Gantly ;  and  you  will  do  it  for  me, 
won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  would  like  to  come  to 
my  dusty  room  during  the  process.  You  see 
I  never  allow  a  servant  to  enter  the  door, 
much  to  the  housekeeper's  grief.  Every  time 
I  go  from  the  house  she  begs  me  to  leave 
the  key,  and  let  her  have  it  cleaned,  promising 
faithfully  to  have  every  thing  left  in  its  proper 
place ;  but  I  am  incorrigible,  and  prefer  the 
dust  to  remain  ;  it  suits  my  feelings  exactly." 

"  But  should  you  give  up  to  such  feelings  ?  " 
said  Maggie,  musingly ;  "  you  may  become 
moody  from  being  much  alone,  I  fear,  Mr. 
Gantly." 

"  Yes,  I  am  alone,  truly,"  replied  he,  mus- 
ingly. 


42  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"But  whose  fault  is  it,  pray?  Just  think 
for  a  moment  how  charming  this  house  would 
be,  if  fillecl  with  guests." 

"  But  that  is  impracticable,  for  there  is  no 
lady  here." 

"  And  why  ?  Is  not  that  in  itself  an  initial 
error  ?  " 

"  I  understand  your  inference,  Miss  Allen. 
However,  who  knows  but  that  a  life  of  not 
entire  uniformity  may  have  bent  the  dispo- 
sition from  any  desire  of  such  a  spirited 
change  ?  " 

A  blast  from  the  other  side  of  the  room 
announced  the  discovery  of  the  cornet.  Je- 
rome had  found  it,  and  forthwith  requested 
its  owner  to  favor  his  audience  with  a  solo. 

"  Oh  !  Edith,  look  here ! "  cried  Charlie,  as 
he  pulled  a  roll  of  brilliantly-colored  designs 
from  under  an  old  trunk.  "  Church  decora- 
tions, as  I  live!  The  very  things  you  and 
Alice  want." 

"  I  am  going  to  be  bold,  Mr.  Gantly,"  said 
Alice,  "and  ask  you  to  lend  me  these  draw- 
ings to  copy." 

"  Pray  accept  them,  Miss  Le  Roy,  and  any 


~"ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  43 

>s.        *        V^ 

others  you  may  see  that  please  you.  No ! — 
no ! — no  thanks  ;  the  gift  costs  me  nothing  ; 
the  sketches  are  merely  some  I  made  for 
amusement  while  abroad.  Did  you  see  this 
sepia,  Miss  Edith?  It  is  by  Darley.  I  have 
many  more  of  his  in  the  library,  some  rather 
amusing  ones.  He  used  to  spend  a  consider- 
able portion  of  his  time  here,  and  I  always 
made  it  a  rule  to  collect  his  scraps." 

When  half-way  down  stairs,  Maggie  de- 
clared that  she  must  go  back  and  have  a  final 
look  at  the  sketch  ;  she  wanted  to  compare 
its  merits,  she  said,  with  the  other  ones  in  the 
library.  She  must  have  examined  it  very 
thoroughly,  for  it  was  fully  fifteen  minutes 
before  she  and  Gantly  joined  the  rest  of  the 
party  below. 

"Mr.  Gantly,  you  have  been  so  indulgent 
to  all  our  whims  this  morning,  I  know  you 
will  not  refuse  this  last  one,"  said  Edith,  as 
they  started  en  masse  for  their  horses.  "  I 
want  you  to  ride  Madge,  and  let  me  ride  your 
horse  home ;  he  is  so  full  of  life,  and  I  can  see 
he  has  a  more  easy  gait  than  Madge." 

Mr.  Gantly  shook  his  head,  saying,  "  Spite 


44  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  ' 

has  never  been  ridden  by  a  lady ;  and,  as 
Michael  tells  me,  is  much  afraid  of  the  blanket 
when  he  has  occasion  to  put  it  on  him ;  so  I 
am  very  much  afraid  your  skirts  might  cause 
some  trouble." 

Edith  took  his  arm,  and  looking  up  at  him 
beseechingly,  said,  "  Dear  Mr.  Gantly,  do  not 
refuse  the  first  favor  I  ever  asked  of  you.  I 
promise  to  keep  close  to  your  side ;  you  can- 
not refuse  me." 

"As  you  wish,  then,  Miss  Edith;  but  you 
must  exercise  extraordinary  care." 

The  saddles  were  soon  changed,  and  Mr. 
Gantly,  with  an  anxious  contraction  of  his 
brow,  assisted  Edith  to  mount,  cautioning 
Michael  to  hold  the  curb  until  he  was  ready 
to  start,  at  the  same  time  advising  Charlie  to 
ride  a  little  ahead  with  the  others,  so  Spite 
would  be  less  anxious  to  dash  forward. 

"Now,  Edith,  ready!  Keep  your  curb  tight. 
Do  not  let  him  know  you  are  afraid  of  him. 
Let  go,  Mike." 

Away  they  dashed.  "  Oh !  this  is  glorious, 
Mr.  Gantly ;  please  turn  to  the  left  and  go  to 
the  top  of  the  hill.  The  others  have  taken 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  45 

the  valley  road,  and  we  can  catch  up  to  them 
soon  enough." 

"  Careful,  Edith  !  Don't  get  frightened ;  your 
hand  is  trembling  ;  there  is  a  sharp  turn  at  the 
gate." 

Mr.  Gantly  kept  close  to  Edith's  side,  and 
they  halted  at  the  top  of  the  hill. 

"  Now  we  must  join  the  others.  Keep  him 
well  in  hand,  Edith  ;  he  has  his  ears  a  little 
back,  and  I  am  afraid  of  the  flapping  of  your 
skirt." 

"  He  is  perfectly  splendid,"  Edith  exclaimed. 
"  I  never  had  a  more  delightful  ride  ;  but  his 
mouth  seems  a  little  hard." 

"  Down  the  hill  they  galloped,  but  on  reach- 
ing the  gate  Spite  put  her  head  between  her 
forefeet,  and  making  a  plunge  through  the  gate 
started  on  a  full  run  up  the  avenue.  Edith,  to- 
tally unprepared  for  this  vicious  movement, 
lost  control  of  her  reins,  and  the  horse  went 
madly  on  past  the -house,  and  made  for  the 
stables.  Michael,  hearing  the  approaching 
clatter,  rushed  down  the  road  to  stop  him. 
Spite,  thus  cut  off  from  his  usual  route,  made  a 
plunge  through  the  trees,  striking  Edith  against 


46  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

a  branch,  which  stunned  and  threw  her  off. 
The  next  moment  she  was  in  Mr.  Gantly's 
arms. 

"  Mrs.  Le  Roy,  I  feel  greatly  guilty  for  this  ; 
but  your  daughter  was  so  anxious  to  ride  the 
horse  I  could  not  refuse  her." 

Edith  was  lying  on  the  sofa  in  Mr.  Gantly's 
library,  the  doctor  applying  restoratives,  and 
Mrs.  Le  Roy,  with  Charlie  and  Mr.  Gantly, 
anxiously  watching  the  result. 

"  I  apprehend  no  danger,  Mrs.  Le  Roy,"  said 
the  doctor  encouragingly  ;  "  she  shows  signs  of 
consciousness  already,  and  unless  there  is  some 
bone  broken  will  soon  be  herself." 

"  Can  we  take  her  home  as  soon  as  she 
wakes  from  this  stupor,  doctor  ?  I  deeply  ap- 
preciate your  hospitable  offer,  Mr.  Gantly,  but 
you  can  understand  how  much  I  would  prefer 
her  being  at  home." 

Edith  was  considered  convalescent,  and  had 
for  the  first  time  been  allowed  to  come  down  to 
the  library.  Her  injury  had  not  been  at  all 
severe,  but  a  few  days'  quiet  had  been  consid- 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  47 

ered  wise.  Hitting  the  branch  had  fortunately 
broken  the  force  of  her  fall,  and  possibly  saved 
her  from  more  serious  injury. 

"  Henry,  you  are  just  as  mean  as  you  can 
be  !  Mamma,  did  I  say  any  thing  while  I  was 
unconscious  ?  " 

"  Mamma,  I  protest.  You  are  a  witness  on 
the  other  side,  and  the  judge,  Charles,  has  not 
yet  called  you.  Father,  did  she  not  say,  '  Oh ! 
don't  kiss  me,  Mr.  Scott  ? ' " 

"  Henry,  how  can  you  say  such  silly  things  ? 
You  know  I  hate  Mr.  Scott.  Papa,  dear,  do 
make  him  be  reasonable." 

"  It  may  be,  Edith,  that  I  didn't  get  the 
name  straight.  Tell  me  who  it  was  ;  it  may 
have  been  some  one  else  you  wanted  to  kiss." 

"  There's  one  thing  certain,  it  wasn't  you, 
and  never  will  be,  if  you  continue  talking  that 
sort  of  stuff." 

"  So  !  ho !  my  lady,  you're  improving,  I  take 
it — improving  rapidly.  Ah!  here  we  have  it, 
just  in  time.  I  have  the  right  man  now,  I 
think.  Glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Gantly.  I  want  a 
witness  to  prove  that  Miss  Edith  Le  Roy,  while 
in  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  caused  by  will- 


48  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

fully  riding  a  horse,  which  same  animal  she 
was  advised  not  to  mount,  did,  during  the 
above  state,  confer  certain  instructions  upon 
some  certain  gentleman  or  gentlemen,  regard- 
ing the  kissing  or  the  non  -  kissing  of  her 
worthy  self." 

"  I  am  too  happy  to  be  a  witness  to  Miss 
Edith's  recovery  to  appear  against  her.  This  is 
the  first  moment  my  conscience  has  not  been 
on  the  rack  since  I  carried  you  into  my  house. 
Edith,  please  accept  my  sincerest  congratula- 
tions." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  49 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  But  oh  !  what  art  can  teach, 
What  human  voice  can  reach 
The  sacred  organ's  praise  ? 
Notes  inspiring  holy  love, 
Notes  that  wing  their  heavenly  ways 
To  mend  the  choirs  above." 

R.  JEROME,  I  claim  you  as  my  es- 
cort this  evening,"  said  Alice.  "  I  en- 
listed you  into  our  society,  so  it  is 
proper  I  should  introduce  you  to  the  supe- 
riors." 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy,  Miss  Alice.     You 
anticipate  my  wishes." 

Alice,  glancing  at  Charlie,  could  not  see  his 
look  of  gratitude,  as  he  took  Edith's  basket 
of  worsted,  and  proposed  that  they  should 
walk  ahead  of  the  party,  so  as  to  have  a  mo- 
ment or  two  with  Dr.  Cutler  before  the  crowd 
came.  The  doctor  was  such  a  favorite  with 
the  young  people,  as  to  make  it  quite  a  strife 
3 


50  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

among  them,  who  should  claim  the  larger  share 
of  his  attention. 

"  I  am  glad  you  thought  of  it,  Charlie  ;  I 
have  some  news  to  tell  Dr.  Cutler,  so  we  will 
hurry  on." 

Upon  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Gantly,  Dr.  Cutler 
welcomed  him  heartily  : 

"  I  hope  you  are  to  remain  long  enough  for 
us  to  have  the  benefit  of  your  society,  Mr. 
Gantly.  I  have  only  met  you  twice  since  I 
have  been  rector  here.  I  must  really  censure 
you  for  leaving  such  a  place  as  your's  deserted, 
as  it  is.  It  may  be  well  enough  to  keep  it  paint- 
ed and  in  order,  but  it  should  be  occupied  also. 
It  takes  just  so  many  members  from  our  church, 
and  we  need  every  one  we  can  get." 

"  I  have  been  thinking  seriously,  doctor,  of 
remaining  for  some  time,"  answered  Mr.  Gant- 
ly ;  "  and  have  all  but  made  up  my  mind  to  ask 
an  old  aunt  to  make  my  house  her  home  for 
the  winter." 

"  Good !  but  why  an  old  aunt  ?  I  should 
suggest  a  wife  as  more  suitable  for  you.  '  It  is 
not  good  that  man  should  be  alone,' "  replied 
the  doctor,  smiling. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  51 

"  True,  true  ;  but  I  am  getting  old,  and  am 
very  quiet  in  my  tastes." 

"  Then  arouse  yourself.  It  is  never  too  late 
to  mend.  Come  now,  we  will  go  and  make 
ourselves  agreeable  to  the  ladies  ;  that  is  the 
first  step  toward  reform.  There  is  Miss  Wil- 
son waiting  for  some  one  to  hold  worsted  for 
her.  Offer  your  services.  Miss  Alice,  I  want 
to  tell  you  how  Johnnie  Shaw's  broken  arm  is 
getting  on.  He  inquired  for  you  to-day." 

"  I  feel  quite  guilty  for  not  having  gone  to 
see  him  to-day,  doctor  ;  but  we  took  such  a 
long  ride  this  morning  that  I  knew  if  I  went 
out  again  I  should  be  unable  to  come  this  even- 
ing. Excuse  me  one  moment,  doctor,  till  I 
remind  Miss  Wilson  to  get  some  hints  from 
Mr.  Gantly  about  organ  playing,  as  I  see  he  is 
talking  to  her.  Oh !  Mr.  Gantly,  won't  you 
kindly  explain  the  use  of  some  of  the  organ 
stops." 

"  From  what  I  have  heard,  Miss  Alice,  I 
should  judge  Miss  Wilson  more  of  a  master  of 
the  instrument  than  I  am." 

"  But  you  have  had  instruction  in  the  use  of 
the  instrument,  and  I  only  took  it  up  from  my 


52  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

knowledge  of  the  piano,  because  the  church 
was  in  such  distress  for  an  organist,"  responded 
Miss  Wilson.  "  Then  you  know  it  is  hard  to 
play  and  lead  the  children  at  the  same  time. 
If  you  would  play  for  us,  we  could  have  so 
much  better  music,  for  then  I  could  do  more 
justice  to  the  singing." 

"  Really  I  could  not  play  to  suit  you,  Miss 
Wilson.  Then  there's  another  difficulty :  I 
rarely  go  to  church." 

"  But  if  you  remain  here  you  will  go  occa- 
sionally. Will  you  not  go  into  the  church  now, 
and  try  the  organ.  We  are  very  proud  of  it. 
It  was  purchased  with  the  proceeds  of  the  fair 
we  held  last  year,  so  every  one  has  an  interest 
in  it.  But  I  wish  it  might  be  played  properly. 
As  for  me,  I  understand  nothing  whatever 
about  the  pedal-base." 

"  If  that  is  all,  I  will  show  you  what  I  know 
with  pleasure,  Miss  Wilson  ;  but  how  do  we 
get  into  the  church  ?  " 

"Through  this  side-door,  which  connects 
with  the  vestry.  Allow  me  to  lead  the  way, 
Mr.  Gantly.  I  will  ask  one  of  the  choir  boys 
to  blow  the  organ  until  old  John  comes." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  53 

Mr.  Gantly  was  much  pleased  with  the  in- 
strument. He  improvised  for  a  short  time,  then 
played  a  number  of  selections  from  Mozart, 
which  soon  brought  everybody,  including  Dr. 
Cutler,  from  the  chapel.  The  player  seemed 
perfectly  unconscious  of  their  presence,  until, 
having  occasion  to  fix  one  of  the  stops,  Edith 
asked  him  if  he  would  play  Chopin's  funeral 
march.  Turning  to  reply,  he  saw  the  audience, 
and  seemed  quite  embarrassed.  Alice  and 
Maggie  were  very  profuse  with  thanks  and 
compliments,  and  urged  him.  to  play  longer. 
The  organ  was  at  one  side  of  the  chancel,  with 
choristers'  benches  facing  the  latter.  The  ladies 
had  taken  possession  of  these,  and  the  choris- 
ters were  waiting  in  the  pews  for  the  rehearsal. 
After  Mr.  Gantly  had  finished,  Dr.  Cutler  came 
forward  and  said  he  had  a  request  to  make. 

"  Certainly,  doctor ;  what  can  I  play  for 
you  ?  " 

"  The  hymns  for  the  rehearsal.  They  are 
new,  and  Miss  Wilson  can  lead  so  much  better 
if  she  is  relieved  of  the  playing." 

"  Now,  doctor,  I  begin  to  think  there  is  a 
preconcerted  plan  to  make  me  organist." 


54  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"By  no  means,  my  dear  friend.  I  never 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing.  Nevertheless,  I  will 
start  the  plan  now,  and  earnestly  hope  you  will 
favor  us  with  your  valuable  services." 

"  I  cannot  make  rash  promises,  but  will  en- 
deavor to  be  agreeable.  What  is  the  first  on 
the  programme,  Miss  Wilson  ?  " 

The  rehearsal  lasted  an  hour,  and  never  did 
the  children  do  such  justice  to  their  leaders. 
Edith  had  been  so  interested  with  the  music 
and  her  duties,  mainly  the  former,  that  Jerome 
had  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  Maggie,  but 
she  did  not  seem  to  court  his  society  as  hereto- 
fore. Her  eyes  wandered  continually  in  the 
direction  of  Mr.  Gantly.  That  individual,  how- 
ever, passed  the  remainder  of  the  evening  ex- 
plaining the  pedal-base  to  Miss  Wilson  and 
Edith.  Upon  arriving  at  the  Le  Roys,  Mr. 
Gantly's  carriage  was  found  in  waiting,  and 
he  having  offered  to  leave  the  gentlemen  at 
their  respective  homes,  the  party  broke  up  after 
planning  a  fishing  excursion  for  Saturday. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  55 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"  To  say  why  girls  act  so  or  so, 
Or  don't,  'ould  be  presuming." 

LOWELL. 

H!  it's  too  lovely  for  any  thing,"  said 
Edith;  "let's  go  to  Bleak  Island  and 
have  a  clam  bake,  and  fish,  and  make 
a  regular  day  of  it.  I  am  just  in  the  humor  for 
something  of  that  sort,  Can  we  go,  Henry  ?  " 
"  Certainly,  if  it  is  agreeable  to  all." 
"  Splendid!  Send  over  for  '  Scotty  '  (I  beg 
his  pardon,  Henry),  Mr.  Scott,  to  go  with  us. 
We  will  have  such  fun  !  He  has  been  perfectly 
devoted  to  me  lately,  and  I  will  get  him  to  sing, 
'  Ever  of  thee  I'm  fondly  dreaming,'  and  we  will 
sing  in  chorus  at  the  end,  '  Mary  had  a  little 
lamb.' " 

"  For  shame,  Edith.  If  it  is  to  ridicule  that 
fellow,  I  shall  not  ask  him,  and  had  you  a  par- 
ticle of  consideration  for  our  nerves,  you  would 


56  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

never  ask  him  to  sing.  He  has  no  music  in 
his  soul,  and  his  voice  reminds  one  of  Milton's 
infernal  gates,  '  grating  harsh  thunder.'  His 
element  is  certainly  not  music ;  but  I  under- 
stand he  is  literary,  in  fact  a  poet." 

"  Oh !  what  a  joke,"  laughed  Edith ;  "  you 
remember  Lessing's  sarcasm : 

"  '  Tompkins  forsakes  his  last  and  awl 

For  literary  squabbles ; 
Styles  himself  poet ;  but  his  trade 
Remains  the  same, — he  cobbles.'  " 

"  Edith,  you  are  actually  incorrigible." 
"  Not  quite  ;  but  I  don't  want  to  be  de  trop. 
You  and  Charlie  are  always  busy  with  the 
boat ;  Jerome  will  be  devoted  to  Maggie,  if 
you  are  out  of  the  way,  and  Alice  must  talk 
sense  to  Mr.  Gantly.  So  unless  you  want 
me  to  be  assistant  sailing-master,  get  me  some 
one  to  tease.  Here  comes  John.  John,  go 
down  to  Mr.  Scott's  and  give  him  this  card. 
See,  Henry,  I  have  written  it  while  you  have 
been  considering  the  matter." 

So  all  necessary  arrangements  were  made, 
and  an  hour  later  they  were  on  their  way  to 
the  beach. 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  57 

"  Mr.  Scott,"  said  Edith,  handing  him  a 
lunch  -  basket,  waterproof,  bundle  of  shawls, 
sun  -  umbrella,  and  fishing-rod  ;  "  if  you  will 
kindly  take  these  things  down  to  the  boat,  I 
will  run  back  to  the  house  and  get  another 
vail." 

"  Certainly,  Miss  Edith,  with  pleasure."  It 
was  plainly  evident  from  Edith's  manner,  as 
she  watched  him  staggering  under  his  load, 
and  his  frantic  and  ungraceful  efforts  to  keep 
the  shawls  from  dragging,  that  her  delay  and 
forgetfulness  was  a  plan  on  her  part  to  fur- 
nish amusement  for  herself  and  the  rest  of 
the  party  at  Mr.  Scott's  expense. 

"  The  last  to  appear,  as  usual,"  said  Henry, 
trying  to  look  reprovingly  at  Edith,  as  she 
stepped  into  the  boat. 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,  Henry,"  said  Edith  ;  "  I 
forgot  my  vail.  But  I  don't  know  what  I 
should  have  done,  if  it  had  not  been  for  Mr. 
Scott ;  you  left  so  many  things  for  me  to 
carry." 

"  If  you  had  got  them  ready  in  time  it  would 
not  have  happened." 

"  Don't   scold,    Henry ;    if   Mr.    Scott   does 


58  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

not  find  fault  you  ought  to  be  satisfied.  Mr. 
Scott,  you  are  all  out  of  style.  Allow  me  to 
reward  you  for  your  kindness,  by  tying  this 
vail  around  your  straw  hat ;  all  the  gentlemen 
wear  them." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Edith,  you  are  very  con- 
siderate ;  but  I  hope  you  did  not  go  back  ex- 
pressly for  it  ? '' 

"  Of  course  I  did  ;  and  why  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  ;  but  you  are  so  kind." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Edith,"  whispered  Char- 
lie, ' '  do  stop.  I  believe  that  simpleton  would 
jump  overboard  if  you  should  ask  him." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  try.  What  fun  it 
would  be ! " 

"  Yes,  certainly,  for  you  ;  but  imagine  how 
he  would  look,  and  what  would  we  do  with 
him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  wring  him  out,  and  hang  him  to  the 
mast  to  dry,"  said  Edith. 

"  Charlie,  haul  that  jib-halyard  taut.  Look 
out  for  the  boom,  ladies,  we  are  going  about." 

"  There ;  I've  got  that  horrid  hook  caught 
in  my  glove.  Mr.  Scott,  please  see  if  you 
can  get  it  out,"  said  Edith. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  59 

Mr.  Scott  did  probably  as  well  as  any  one, 
as  bashful  as  he,  could  have  done,  but  his 
efforts  proved  futile.  Just  as  he  seemed  about 
to  succeed,  Edith  would  drop  her  hand,  declar- 
ing that  she  was  tired  holding  it  up  so  long, 
and  back  would  go  the  hook. 

"  Don't  be  afraid ;  you  don't  hurt  me  in 
the  least,"  said  Edith,  almost  convulsed  at 
Mr.  Scott's  nervous  and  unsuccessful  efforts. 
"  There  ;  now  you  have  it ;  thank  you  very 
much." 

"  Not  at  all,  Miss  Edith ;  but  I  fear  I  have 
ruined  your  glove." 

"  Never  mind  that ;  they  are  old  ones." 
Mr.  Gantly,  with  Alice,  sat  opposite,  very 
much  amused  at  Edith's  roguish  winks  and 
Mr.  Scott's  flushed  and  troubled  expression, 
till  Alice,  not  knowing  what  Edith  would  do 
next,  said  :  "  What  is  the  matter  with  you  to- 
day, Edith?  I  never  saw  you  act  so  in  my 
life." 

"  I  am  not  acting  badly  ;  am  I,  Mr.  Gantly?" 

"  Not  badly,  Miss  Edith,  but  decidedly  lively." 

"  Well,  I  can't  help  it ;  the  rest  of  you  are  so 

quiet.     Now  just  look  at  Maggie  and  Mr.  Je- 


60  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

rome.  They  have  not  said  a  word  that  any  one 
could  hear  since  we  started  ;  and  just  see !  they 
are  holding  on  to  their  lines  for  dear  life, 
and  their  hooks  are  both  lying  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat." 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  island.  Have  you 
any  particular  spot  at  which  you  wish  to  land, 
Mr.  Gantly  ?  "  said  Henry. 

"  None  whatever;  use  your  own  judgment. 
I  am  not  at  all  familiar  with  the  island." 

"  Please,  Henry,  land  at  Long  Point,  in- 
stead of  the  Island,  so  that  we  can  go  to  Lily 
Pond.  It  is  just  the  time  for  pond  lilies.  Did 
you  ever  gather  pond  lilies,  Mr.  Scott  ?  "  asked 
Edith. 

"  No  ;  I  should  like  very  much  to  see  how 
they  grow  ;  it  will  be  charming." 

"  Then  we  must  certainly  give  you  an  op- 
portunity to  see  how  they  grow,"  said  Edith, 
giving  a  sly  glance  at  Mr.  Gantly.  "  Old 
Dennis  keeps  boats,  and  I  will  get  one  only 
large  enough  for  you  and  me  ;  and  you  can 
pull  the  lilies  while  I  row  the  boat.  Is  it 
a  bargain?  " 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  6l 

"  Most  assuredly,  Miss  Edith,  if  it  is  your 
pleasure.  But  pull  your  line  in  quickly,  for  we 
are  landing." 

"  Dennis,  I  must  have  that  red  boat.  Please 
do  not  take  it  from  me,  Mr.  Gantly,"  begged 
Edith.  "  It  is  just  as  cunning  as  it  can  be  ;  " 
adding,  in  an  undertone  :  "  You  know  I  cannot 
trust  '  Scotty '  to  row,  and  these  heavy  boats 
would  tire  me  out." 

"  But,  Edith,  I  am  afraid  that  boat  is  not  safe 
for  such  a  restless  oarsman  as  you.  It  looks 
as  if  it  could  be  very  easily  upset.  Why  not 
take  the  larger  boats,  and  let  one  of  us  be  oars- 
man for  you  ?  " 

'"  How  kind  you  are,"  said  Edith,  saucily. 
"  You  want  to  spoil  tete-a-tete  number  three  for 
luck,  I  suppose." 

"  I  would  like  to  spoil  it,  if  by  so  doing  I 
could  get  Mr.  Scott's  place." 

Edith  blushed,  but  quickly  answered  :  "  No, 
no  ;  I  must  have  the  fun  of  seeing  him  gather 
the  lilies.  Come,  Mr.  Scott.  This  is  our  boat," 
and  stepping  into  the  little  craft  she  seized  the 
oars  and  pushed  out  into  the  pond. 


62  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

The  others  did  the  same,  with  the  exception 
of  Henry  and  Charlie,  who  preferred  the  com- 
pany of  their  cigars  and  old  Dennis's  amusing 
stories. 

As  a  very  brisk  wind  was  blowing,  Edith 
though  it  best  to  row  to  the  upper  end  of  the 
pond  before  she  stopped  for  lilies. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Scott,  you  see  I  am  rowing 
right  into  that  mass  of  leaves.  You  must  look 
over  the  side  of  the  boat,  and  when  you  see 
the  flowers,  pull  them  up.  There's  one  now  ; 
don't  you  see  it?  " 

"  This  is  delightful,  Miss  Edith  ;  do  you  often 
come  here  ?  " 

"  Oh !  yes.  But  look  sharp,  or  you'll  tip  the 
boat,  and  a  nice  time  you  would  have  if  I  went 
overboard." 

"  But  I  can  swim,  and  would  have  the  un- 
speakable happiness  of  rescuing  you." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  unspeakably  unbecom- 
ing to  me,  my  lovely  hat  and  dress  all  drenched 

Quick!  there  goes  my  vail.  Oh! 

why  didn't  you  catch  it  ?  Now,  if  you  want 
to  make  me  unspeakably  happy,  rescue  that. 
There  it  is,  in  those  leaves.  It  is  the  loveliest 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  63 

one  I  ever  had,  and  has  not  yet  touched  the 
water." 

"  But,  my  dear  Miss  Edith,  how  am  I  to  get 
it  ?  We  are  some  fifty  yards  from  the  bush,  and 
the  leaves  look  so  thick,  I  doubt  if  it  be  possi- 
ble to  get  the  boat  through  them." 

"  Never  you  fear  about  that ;  only  get  my 
vail.  Here,  take  this  umbrella,  and  when  I 
get  as  near  as  we  can,  you  catch  it  with  the 
handle.  It  is  positively  like  rowing  through 
sand.  My  arms  ache  so  I  cannot  get  an  inch 
further,  Mr.  Scott.  Now  lean  forward  as  far  as 
possible,  and  I  think  you.  will  have  it." 

"  Just  a  little  nearer,  Miss  Edith  ;  I  have  al- 
most reached  it,"  said  Mr.  Scott,  balancing 
himself  in  the  most  ludicrous  manner  on  the 
bow  of  the  boat,  the  umbrella  held  tightly  in 
both  hands. 

Edith  shook  with  laughter ;  and  the  spirit  of 
mischief  was  so  strong  in  her  that,  without 
really  intending,  she  jerked  herself  to  one  side 
of  the  boat,  making  it  pitch,  and  almost  in- 
stantly Mr.  Scott  and  umbrella  were  at  full 
length  in  the  water. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Scott !     Help  !  help ! "  screamed 


64  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

Edith,  as  the  poor  victim  of  her  sport  floun- 
dered up  through  the  leaves. 

Fortunately  the  water  was  not  very  deep, 
and  before  the  others  came  to  the  rescue  he 
had,  with  Edith's  help,  reached  the  boat,  and  a 
most  pitable-looking  object  he  was.  His  light 
clothes  and  faultless  linen  were  a  sorry  sight. 
Nothing  but  his  hat  was  safe.  That  had  fallen 
back  into  the  boat  as  he  was  thrown  forward. 

"Why,  how  did  it  happen?"  all  exclaimed 
at  once. 

"  Edith,  I  told  you  to  be  careful  of  that  boat. 
It  is  a  miracle  you  were  not  both  drowned." 

"  It  was  not  the  fault  of  the  boat,  Mr. 
Gantly,"  answered  Edith,  looking  into  his  face 
And  he  could  detect  a  twinkle  in  her  eye,  al- 
though she  had  been  frightened.  "  Mr.  Scott 
was  trying  to  reach  my  vail,  which  had  blown 
off." 

"  Really,  Mr.  Gantly,  Miss  Le  Roy  is  en- 
tirely blameless.  I  was  so  anxious  to  reach  the 
vail  that  I  suppose  my  foot  slipped  or  I  lost 
my  balance.  I  am  really  distressed  to  have 
frightened  you  all  by  such  a  piece  of  awkward- 
ness." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  65 

Edith  busied  herself  with  the  oars,  not  rais- 
ing her  eyes  to  Mr.  Gantly  again. 

"  Edith,"  said  Alice,  "if -Mr.  Scott  will  trust 
himself  with  you,  you  had  better  row  back  to 
Dennis  as  quickly  as  possible,  so  that  he  can 
have  an  opportunity  to  dry  his  clothes." 

"  I  am  almost  as  good  as  new,  young  ladies," 
said  Mr.  Scott,  joining  them  at  their  lunch  an 
hour  after  the  mishap  ;  "  thanks  to  good  Mrs. 
Dennis  and  my  friend  Henry." 

Edith  was  helping  Charlie  open  clams  ;  but 
immediately  upon  his  appearance  she  came  up, 
and,  offering  him  her  hand,  begged  him  to  for- 
give her  for  her  thoughtlessness  in  placing  him 
in  such  a  dangerous  position. 

"  Don't  mention  it.  There  is  no  cause  for 
forgiveness  on  my  part.  The  loss  of  the  vail  is 
the  only  thing  to  be  regretted." 


66  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Be  useful  where  thou  livest,  that  they  may 
Both  want  and  wish  thy  pleasing  presence  still. 
Kindnesse,  good  parts,  great  places  are  the  way 
To  compasse  this.    Find  out  men's  wants  and  will. 
And  meet  them  there.    All  worldly  joys  go  lesse 
To  the  one  joy  of  doing  Kindnesse." 

GEORGE  HERBERT. 

AM  now  able  to  offer  you  the  hospi- 
tality of  my  home,  my  dear  Mrs.  Le 
Roy,"  said  Mr.  Gantly,  as  he  took 
her  hand  of  welcome  and  bowed  to  the  young 
ladies.  "  When  I  returned  last  evening  I 
brought  with  me  my  venerable  but  still  charm- 
ing Aunt  Rachel." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Mr.  Gantly.  We  will 
certainly  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  calling 
on  your  aunt." 

"  Calling  alone  will  not  do.  You  must  drop 
in  to  dinner  or  tea,  and  help  me  make  the  house 
look  alive." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH,  6/ 

"Pray  are  we  included  in  the  invited?" 
asked  Edith. 

"  Certainly.  All  must  come,"  answered  Mr. 
Gantly.  "  And  as  soon  as  the  old  lady  gets 
things  as  she  likes  them,  we  will  have  a  ball 
or  something  of  the  kind.  What  shall  it 
be?" 

"  Oh,  charming !  "  exclaimed  Maggie.  "  Do 
have  a  fete.  Throw  open  the  green -houses 
and  light  them  with  Japanese  lanterns.  How 
lovely  you  are,  Mr.  Gantly!  Will  you  really 
do  all  this  ?  " 

"  By  all  means,  if  it  will  give  you  any  pleas- 
ure. When  would  it  be  best  to  have  it  ?  " 

"  Some  moonlight  night,"  suggested  Edith. 

"How  childish,  Edith,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  don't 
you  know  the  place  will  look  ever  so  much 
more  lovely  lighted  with  lanterns  ?  " 

"  Really,  girls,  you  are  all  very  coolly  taking 
the  management  of  Mr.  Gantly's  entertainment 
into  your  own  hands." 

"  Much  to  my  relief,  Miss  Alice ;  and  if, 
among  you,  you  will  only  give  me  the  neces- 
sary information  about  such  affairs,  I  promise 
to  be  a  most  obedient  servant  in  carrying  out 


68  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

all  plans.  A  society  affair  of  this  kind  has  be- 
come decidedly  terra  incognita  to  me." 

"Oh!  Mr.  Gantly.  If  you  really  mean  to 
give  us  such  a  treat,  why  mamma  will  be  your 
best  ally;  she'll  help  you  greatly;  won't  you, 
mamma,  dear  ?  " 

"  Provided  Mr.  Gantly  will  assist  us  with  the 
church  music.  I  must  protest  against  your  re- 
maining idle  any  longer,  my  good  sir.  Surely 
it  cannot  be  any  trouble  for  you  to  play.  Music 
seems  to  be  a  very  part  of  you.  You  seem  to 
weave  your  melodies  into  august  harmonies. 
I  remember  having  read  that  'when  Jubal 
played  his  first  tune,  he  opened  the  golden 
gates  to  a  new  realm.'  The  night  you  so  highly 
favored  us,  I  constantly  recalled  that  passage. 
Every  note  seemed  a  spiritual  development, 
an  echo  from  another  world.  Dr.  Cutler,  please 
try  your  persuasive  powers." 

"  I  hardly  think  persuasion  necessary  in  your 
case,  Mr.  Gantly.  Every  creature  of  God  is 
sent  into  the  world  for  a  certain  life-time,  to  do 
certain  things.  Our  forms  combine  the  same 
elements,  but  we  are  differently  endowed.  We 
have  our  talents,  and  we  must  make  proper  use 


/      , 

/~y  ) 

ALL  ABWT  EDITH:  769 

of  them.  You  see  the  call  for  you,  and  the 
chance  of  your  usefulness  ;  and  I  do  not  think 
you  are  the  man  to  say :  '  I  have  nothing  to 
do  with  this  want ;  I  did  not  make  it.'  " 

"  I  fear,  Dr.  Cutler,  my  reluctance  is  misun- 
derstood. It  does  not  arise  from  any  unwill- 
ingness ;  but  I  have  long  since  given  up  the 
technicalities  and  intricacies  of  music.  And 
furthermore,  I  allow  my  feelings  to  originate 
ideas  and  invent  forms." 

"  And  suppose  you  do  !  Geniuses  alone  can 
create  and  compose.  This  acknowledged  in- 
spiration shows  your  fitness.  Do  you  suppose, 
Mr.  Gantly,  that  the  divine  song  that  long  ago 
rolled  over  the  plains  of  Bethlehem,  and  melted 
back  into  heaven  again  with  the  vocal  host, 
had  any  original  form  ?  You  see  I  have  plainly 
pointed  out  your  mission.  Be  not  a  thirsty  loi- 
terer at  the  fountain  of  life,  but  make  use  of  your 
talent.  Remember  Bacon's  words  :  '  Men  must 
know  that  in  this  theater  of  man's  life  it  remain- 
eth  only  to  God  and  angels  to  be  lookers-on.'  " 

"Oh  dear!  I  am  so  tired  waiting,  Henry. 
We  certainly  will  be  late." 


7O  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  How  childish  you  are,  Edith.  Mother 
should  not  have  consented  to  your  going  this 
evening ;  your  element  is  the  school-room. 
Too  late!  little  ignoramus!  One  is  not  ex- 
pected to  go  to  a  ball  on  time." 

"  But  Mr.  Gantly  said  we  were  to  be  there 
at  eight ;  and  now  we  have  lost  half  an  hour's 
fun.  Even  late  as  it  is,  Maggie  is  not  half 
ready.  How  you  would  shout  if  you  could 
see  her  promenading  before  the  glass.  She 
has  enlisted  Nora's  services  ;  Mary  was  not 
enough." 

"  Maggie  dresses  well,  Edith  ;  and  to  do  so 
takes  time,  I  should  judge.  Now,  as  to  your 
dress,  it  is  only  a  simple  white  tarlatan ;  noth- 
ing effective  about  it,  so  it  can  be  put  on  in  a 
short  time." 

"Of  all  horribly  mean  speeches!  Well, 
before  I  would  fairly  worship  a  girl,  as  you 
do  Maggie  (and  I  don't  believe  she  cares  a 
pin  about  it),  I  should  just  go  without  one  at 
all.  And  allow  me  to  say,  Master  Henry,  that 
you  have  not  seen  my  dress  yet.  I  am  all 
bundled  up  now,  but  it  is  just  lovely,  and  I 
didn't  get  into  it  in  any  short  order  at  all,  but 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  /I 

like  a  natural  being.  I  began  early.  There 
they  come  at  last." 

"  Maggie,  ma  chere,  would  you  believe  it, 
this  little  ignoramus  has  been  working  her- 
self into  a  fever,  because  we  have  lost  half  an 
hour  of  the  ball,  waiting  for  the  completion 
of  your  charming  toilet." 

"Oh!  I'm  not  astonished.  Her  head  has 
been  completely  turned  since  Mr.  Gantly  sent 
her  that  bouquet.  She  don't  appear  to  under- 
stand it  as  an  attention  always  customary,  this 
being  the  first  party  la  petite  title  has  at- 
tended." 

Edith's  eyes  fairly  danced  with  delight  as 
she  entered  the  magnificent  drawing-room  by 
her  mother's  side,  and  involuntarily  exclaimed, 
"  Oh!  mamma,  isn't  it  like  fairy-land  ?  " 

It  certainly  was.  Mr.  Gantly  had  caused 
all  the  rare  plants  to  be  brought  in  from  the 
hot-house.  The  room  was  lighted  with  can- 
dles. The  band  was  hidden  in  an  alcove  by 
a  screen  of  tropical  plants.  As  Edith  moved 
into  the  room,  a  murmur  passed  from  one  to 
another  of  the  guests,  "  How  lovely !  She 
could  not  have  been  more  becomingly  dressed. 


72  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

That  pure  white,  with  her  lovely  color  and 
black  hair!  Some  hearts  will  ache  before  long." 

As  Mrs.  Le  Roy  advanced  into  the  room 
(Mr.  Gantly  having  offered  his  arm  to  Alice), 
a  young  man  joined  her.  A  very  few  words 
will  describe  him.  He  was  slight,  fair,  had 
sandy  hair,  and  a  shadow  on  his  upper  lip, 
lisped  somewhat,  and  dangled  a  glass  with 
one  finger. 

"Oh!  ah!  Mrs.  Le  Roy.  Charmed  to  see 
you  this  evening.  Pray  introduce  me  to  your 
lovely  daughter." 

"  Edith,  Mr.  Isling." 

"  May  I  have  the  pleasure,  Miss  Le  Roy,  of 
a  waltz?" 

Soon  they  were  in  the  giddy  maze  of  the 
dance.  Edith  was  nervous,  and  begged  to 
be  excused  from  finishing  it. 

"  Oh !  charming,"  exclaimed  Isling.  "  Then 
we'll  promenade.  It  is  so  refreshing  to  find 
some  one  who  cares  to  promenade ;  young 
ladies  seem  to  think  of  nothing  but  dancing." 

"  I  fear  you  misjudge  us,  Mr.  Isling ;  but 
there  is  a  time  for  every  thing,  and  we  come 
to  balls  principally  to  dance." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  73 

"  True ;  but  a  fellow  finds  it  so  hard  to 
dance  all  winter,  and  then  be  obliged  to  keep 
it  up  all  summer." 

"  I  cannot  see  any  obligation  in  the  mat- 
ter. If  it  be  such  a  b&te  noir,  why  do  you  at- 
tend ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see  I  have  been  abroad  for  the 
past  two  years,  and  the  governor  says  unless 
I  show  myself  people  would  forget  me." 

"  Oh !  that  would  be  sad,  indeed,"  said 
Edith,  putting  her  bouquet  to  her  face  to 
hide  a  smile.  At  the  same  time  she  caught 
Willie  Jerome's  eye,  and  he  came  immedi- 
ately across  the  room. 

"  Miss  Edith,  you  are  engaged  to  me  for 
the  next  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so.  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Isling.  I 
hope  you  may  recover  from  your  fatigue  be- 
fore the  evening  is  over.  How  thankful  I  am 
to  you  for  taking  me  away  from  that  simple- 
ton. Is  that  what  I  am  to  meet  in  society  ?  " 

"  I  should  hope  not.  But  isn't  this  glori- 
.ous  ?  And  you  have  made  such  a  sensation. 
The  fellows  are  all  waiting  for  an  introduc- 
tion ;  but  you  must  not  go  back  on  me.  I 
4 


74  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

claim  at  least  four  waltzes,  and  no  end  of 
promenades." 

"  How  perfectly  ridiculous !  You  will  forget 
all  about  me  as  soon  as  you  find  Maggie.  She 
is  simply  lovely  to-night." 

"  I  have  seen  her,  and  agree  with  you  fully 
as  to  her  appearance,  which,  by  the  way,  I  con- 
sider studied  to  assist  her  in  captivating  our 
mutual  friend  Gantly.  Furthermore,  could  I  be 
enticed  from  my  present  very  charming  com- 
pany, I  should  have  no  chance  with  her.  She 
has  been  with  our  host  ever  since  your  arrival, 
and  has  refused  to  dance  any  thing  but  square 
dances." 

"  How  strange  !  Why,  she  has  talked  about 
the  dancing  ever  since  Mr.  Gantly  spoke  of 
having  the  ball.  But  have  you  seen  Alice  ? " 

"  Yes,  she  is  in  the  library  with  a  friend  of 
Dr.  Cutler's — a  divine,  I  could  take  my  davy. 
I  am  half  inclined  to  study  for  the  ministry  my- 
self. It  is  quite  the  swell  thing  now." 

"  Oh !  how  can  you  talk  so  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  think  so  yourself?  Now  take 
the  case  of  that  smooth-faced  fellow  sitting 
alone  there  with  your  sister.  No  one  thinks 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  75 

it  out  of  the  order  of  things  ;  but  just  let  me 
try  the  same  dodge,  and  see  what  would  come 
of  it !  Oh !  they  are  talking  theology  ;  you 
say  high  church  and  low  church.  Well  I  must 
confess  I  entertain  doubts  about  this  church 
business.  It  covers  a  multitude  of  sins." 

"  I  positively  will  not  give  you  another 
waltz  if  you  talk  such  heresy." 

"  You  would  not  be  so  cruel.  But  come  and 
promenade  in  the  conservatory.  This  waltz  is 
just  finishing,  and  that  beardless  youth  is  com- 
ing toward  us." 

"  This  conservatory  is  just  perfect — opening 
off  the  house  in  this  way.  I  could  pass  the 
whole  evening  here  in  some  certain  delightful 
company,"  said  Jerome,  looking  down  at  Edith. 
"  But  what  are  you  biting  that  bouquet  for  ? 
I'll  not  send  you  another." 

"That's  cool.  You  are  not  to  be  thanked 
for  it  at  all.  Mr.  Gantly  sent  it.  Besides, 
I  was  not  biting  it ;  I  think  too  much  of 
it." 

"  Give  me  one  of  the  flowers,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  could  not.  I  want  to  keep  it  just  as 
it  is,  for  you  know  it  is  my  first." 


y6  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  All  the  more  reason,  then,  that  you  should 
share  it. 

"  '  One  rose,  but  one,  by  those  fair  fingers  cull'd, 
Were  worth  a  hundred  kisses  pressed  on  lips 
Less  exquisite  than  thine/  " 

quoted  Jerome,  leaning  down  to  grasp  the 
flower.  His  whiskers  almost  touched  her  face. 
At  that  moment  Charlie  Barclay  came  toward 
them.  He  had  evidently  seen  Jerome's  mo- 
tion. 

"Edith,  I  have  been  looking  through  all  the 
rooms  for  you.  I  hardly  expected  to  find  you 
here.  Allow  me  the  next  waltz,  will  you  not  ? 
I  had  hoped  for  one  sooner,  but  was  delayed 
getting  from  home." 

"  Remember  you  are  my  partner  for  the  fol- 
lowing one,  Miss  Edith,"  cried  Jerome,  as  the 
couple  moved  off. 

The  rooms  were  very  warm,  so  after  a  short 
waltz  Charlie  led  the  way  toward  the  piazza. 
They  were  inclosed  in  canvas,  he  said,  and  there 
was  not  a  possibility  of  catching  cold. 

"  Now  prepare,  Edith,  for  I'm  about  to  lec- 
ture. Don't  you  know  that  you  '  didn't  ought ' 
to  have  permitted  certain  familiarities  that  Je- 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  77 

rome  assumed  a  short  time  ago.  It  won't  do 
to  allow  him  any  slack  rope,  for  he  is  one  liable 
to  take  advantage  of  inexperience." 

"  Why,  this  is  absurd,  Charlie  ;  Mr.  Jerome  is 
very  polite." 

"  Polite !  You  hardly  know  him.  He  is 
coolly  preparing  to  twist  you  round  his  finger. 
You  can  of  course  prevent  him  right  easily  if 
you  only  will,  and  you  will  do  so,  won't  you  ? 
For  I  really  think  that  the  exclusive  attention 
of  a  comparative  stranger  to  so  young  a  girl  as 
yourself  cannot  be  of  advantage  in  the  long  run." 

"  Now,  Charlie,  don't  scold.  I  can't  stand  it. 
It  only  makes  me  cross,  and  then  I  do  exactly 
what  I  don't  intend.  I  want  to  have  a  good 
time  when  I  am  out ;  that  is  what  I  go  for." 

"  But,  Edith,  promise  me  not  to  be  with 
Jerome  so  much." 

"  Oh  !  nonsense  !  How  silly  of  you  !  He 
dances  just  to  perfection,  and  I  am  engaged  to 
him  for  three  more  waltzes." 

"  Edith,  I  beg  of  you  to  refuse  him.  Here 
he  is  coming  now." 

"  I  cannot,  Charlie.  There  is  no  use  ask- 
ing." 


78  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

And  so  it  proved.  The  three  promised 
waltzes  were  claimed  and  given,  although  the 
last  one  was  started  under  a  withering  glance 
from  Maggie.  Charlie's  early  departure  saved 
him  from  seeing  such  total  neglect  of  his  ad- 
vice. Toward  the  close  of  the  evening,  when 
Mrs.  Le  Roy  was  marshaling  her  forces,  pre- 
paratory to  leaving,  an  inquiry  as  to  Edith's 
whereabouts  proved  unanswerable.  Just  at  the 
last  moment  Henry  discovered  her  with  Jerome, 
out  on  the  end  of  the  long  piazza.,  where  they 
had  gone  to  see  the  moon  rise.  After  Mrs. 
Le  Roy  had  been  safely  deposited  in  the  fam- 
ily coach,  Henry  anticipated  Mr.  Gantly,  and 
escorted  Maggie  from  the  house.  She  was  not 
in  the  best  of  humors,  however. 

"  Four  are  too  many  in  that  coach,  Miss 
Edith,"  whispered  Jerome.  "  My  carriage  is 
standing  but  a  step  behind.  Let  me  drive  you 
home.  It  will  be  so  much  more  enjoyable  and 
less  close." 

Edith  did  not  realize  what  she  was  doing 
until  she  found  herself  seated  beside  Mr.  Je- 
rome, as  they  dashed  by  her  father's  coach. 
Then  it  was  that  her  heart  almost  stood  still. 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  79 

All  the  thoughtless  rashness  of  the  action 
rushed  before  her.  What  would  her  mother 
think  ? 

"  Oh  !  thou  child  of  many  prayers  ! 
Life  hath  quicksands  ;  life  hath  snares." 

"  Yes,  quicksands  enough,"  thought  she,  as 
they  passed  rapidly  through  the  manor  gate, 
out  into  the  broad  highway.  Jerome's  horse 
was  fast,  and  he  had  some  trouble  holding  him. 
So,  to  Edith's  relief,  but  little  coversation  was 
possible.  As  they  drew  near  home  Jerome 
proposed  a  continuance  of  the  drive.  The 
motion,  however,  met  with  so  emphatic  a  veto 
that  he  quickly  drew  up  before  the  door, 
handed  her  out,  thanked  her  for  so  short  a 
pleasure,  hoped  it  would  not  be  the  last,  and 
was  off  in  an  instant. 

Edith  rushed  to  her  room,  locked  and  bolted 
the  door.  The  agony  of  her  mind  was  unbear- 
able for  a  few  moments.  What  had  she  done ! 
How  mamma  would  grieve  at  her  ungrateful 
way  of  repaying  her  indulgence  in  permitting 
her  to  go  to  this  ball!  She  had  really  tried 
to  avoid  doing  any  thing  likely  to  cause  cen- 
sure, and  had  miserably  failed.  She  had  done 


8o  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

wrong.  She  knew  it.  She  knew  that  her 
mother  had  ample  cause  for  chiding,  and  she 
looked  toward  this  scolding  with  a  sense  of 
relief.  But  it  did  exasperate  her  to  think  of 
the  many  second-hand  rubs  she  must  infallibly 
get  from  here,  there,  and  everywhere.  It  was 
so  hard  to  be  taken  to  task  by  a  little  of  every 
body.  If  they  would  only  let  her  alone  she 
would  get  along  much  better.  To-morrow! 
What  would  it  bring  forth  ?  Henry  would 
scold  ;  Alice  would  put  on  that  sanctimonious 
look ;  and,  worse  than  all,  Maggie's  sarcasm ! 
Mamma  would  be  all  right,  however,  and  for- 
give her  as  soon  as  she  put  her  arms  about 
her  neck  and  begged  forgiveness.  That  last 
thought  was  reassuring.  So,  listening  until 
they  were  all  in  their  rooms,  she  crept  to  her 
mother's  door,  and  soon  obtained  that  unspeak- 
able gift — a  mother's  blessing. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  8l 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Love  took  up  the  harp  of  Life,  and  smote  on  all  the  chords 
with  might." 

TENNYSON. 

T  may  be  she  will  listen  to  you,  Mr. 
Gantly,"  said  Henry  to  his  friend,  as 
they  were  finishing  their  cigars  on 
the  piazza..  "  As  for  me,  I  am  discouraged.  I 
never  was  so  mortified  in  all  my  life  as  I  was 
last  evening,  and  in  consequence  have  hardly 
spoken  to  her  to-day." 

"  That  is  decidedly  a  very  unwise  course  to 
pursue.  I  take  it,  you  will  manage  Edith  bet- 
ter by  kindness." 

"  What  can  I  do  more  ?  I  have  begged  her 
to  act  differently.  I  have  maneuvered  to  keep 
her  from  Jerome,  but  without  success.  He 
flatters  her,  and  follows  her  every  footstep  ; 
and  yet,  confound  the  fellow,  he  does  not  do 
any  thing  that  I  can  pick  a  quarrel  with  him 
for.  Now,  suppose  you  speak  to  her.  She 


82  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

will  listen  to  you  ;  I  know  she  will,  for  she 
thinks  you  know  more  than  any  body  else." 

"  But  one  moment,  Henry  ;  are  you  sure  she 
doesn't  care  for  Jerome  ?  " 

"  Care  for  him !  Preposterous !  If  she  knew 
what  it  was  to  be  in  love  she  would  act  very 
differently.  Don't  you  see  how  heedless  her 
actions  are  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  am  ready  to  do  a  favor,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,  but  it  is  rather  a  delicate  piece  of 
business." 

"  Not  at  all.  Simply  advise  her  to  act  with 
more  discretion.  Now,  here's  your  chance. 
You  asked  her  to  run  over  those  new  pieces, 
until  you  finished  your  cigar.  I  hear  her  at 
them,  so  we  will  go  in  now.  I  will  take  Mag- 
gie and  Alice  to  the  billiard  room,  and  that 
will  give  you  a  clear  field.  While  you  are 
practicing,  nothing  will  be  easier  than  to  refer 
to  last  night." 

"  That  symphony  never  seemed  as  beautiful 
to  me  as  it  does  to-night,  Mr.  Gantly,"  said 
Edith,  as  she  turned  toward  him  while  he  was 
changing  his  cornet  shank. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  83 

"  How  do  you  account  for  that,  Edith  ?  '' 

"  Really,  I  do  not  know,  except  that  I  have 
felt  very  quiet  all  day.  Reaction  of  the  ball 
feelings,  I  suppose.  We  did  have  such  a  glo- 
rious time.  I  did  not  imagine  any  thing  could 
have  been  so  beautiful." 

"  You  did  really  seem  to  enjoy  yourself.  I 
was  delighted  to  see  you  so  happy.  I  fear  you 
made  some  hearts  tingle  just  a  little.  At  least 
so  I  judge." 

"  Why,  I  hardly  saw  you  all  the  evening. 
You  were  with  Maggie  all  the  time." 

"  It  does  not  follow  that  I  did  not  see  you. 
And,  by  the  way,  there  was  another  observer, 
who  not  only  saw,  but  took  pains  to  obtain  a 
closer  vision  ;  I  refer  to  Isling.  The  poor  fellow 
dodged  all  around  the  room  in  the  endeavor  to 
claim  you  as  a  partner.' 

"  Oh!  ft&a  petit  mattre  !  Excuse  me,  but  I 
must  call  him  so.  I  begged  of  Mr.  Jerome  to 
keep  me  from  him." 

"  Indeed !  Dp  you  not  think  it  just  possible 
that  some  one  would  have  liked  to  have  kept 
you  from  Jerome  ?  " 

Edith  almost  trembled.      First  she  turned 


84  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

white,  and  then  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her 
hair.  "  I  declare  this  is  too  mean,  Mr.  Gantly. 
Henry  or  some  one  of  my  kind  friends  has 
been  telling  you  of  my — my — of  last  night. 
They  are  just  as  mean  as  they  can  be,  and  no- 
body loves  me  or  they  would  not  torment 
me  so,"  said  Edith,  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

Mr.  Gantly  got  up,  and  taking  her  hands 
from  her  face,  raised  her  from  the  piano.  Then 
gazing  steadily  into  her  eyes,  he  said,  "  Edith, 
never  repeat  that  again.  Some  one  does  love 
you,  and  very  dearly  too.  But,  Edith,  can  you 
love  me  ?  " 

Edith  never  knew  what  she  said ;  but  she 
found  herself  in  Mr.  Gantly 's  arms. 

"  I  will  see  your  father  to-morrow.  But  we 
must  now  go  to  the  billiard  room,  my  pet." 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  I  cannot — I  am  so — I  don't 
know  what.  But  tell  them  I  am  tired,  or  have 
a  headache,  and  am  gone  to  mamma." 

"  I  declare,  Edith,  this  is  shameful !  Norah, 
do  you  not  know  better  than  to  let  Edith  sit  up 
so  late  when  she  has  a  headache?"  asked 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  85 

Alice  authoritatively,  as  she  and  Maggie  came 
into  Edith's  room  some  two  hours  later,  and 
found  the  inmate  having  a  lively  conversation 
with  Norah,  her  old  nurse,  while  she  was  brush- 
ing her  hair. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  Miss  Alice,  I  never  saw 
her  better  or  so  hard  to  get  to  bed.  She  has 
been  playing  all  kinds  of  tricks  to  prevent  my 
finishing,  she  has.  And,  would  you  believe  it, 
told  me,  if  I  did  not  stop  scolding  her,  she 
would  get  married,  and  then  I  would  have  no 
one  to  fix  : — the  child,  to  be  talking  that  way. 
And  bless  your  heart,  if  she  didn't  ask  me  if  I'd 
ever  been  in  love." 

Edith  now  screamed  with  delight,  saying, 
"  Do,  please,  Norah,  tell  them  the  story  you 
told  me." 

"  Oh !  for  shame,  child.  Do  you  suppose 
the  young  lady  and  Miss  Alice  would  listen  to 
such  nonsense  ? " 

"Norah,  you  make  the  most  charitable  ex- 
cuse for  Edith's  faults.  None  but  a  child  would 
so  far  forget  herself  as  Edith  does.  Alice,  do 
you  not  fear  that  Mr.  Gantly's  playing  with  her 
so  much  will  turn  her  head  ?  " 


86  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Many  thanks,  Maggie.  However,  I  pro- 
pose doing  as  I  like,  and  playing  with  whom  I 
please,"  retorted  Edith.  "  You  are  very  prop- 
erly jealous,  because  you  cannot  be  with  him 
all  the  time.  Moreover,  he  likes  to  play  with 
me,  and  that  settles  it." 

"  Jealous,  mon  enfant!  why  I  have  no  cause 
for  jealousy.  You  may  be  flattered  by  Mr. 
Gantly's  attention,  but,  trust  me,  he  practices 
with  you  solely  for  his  own  improvement." 

"  Alice,  how  can  you  stand  there  and  hear 
your  sister  spoken  to  in  that  manner  ?  Mr. 
Gantly  appreciates  me  and  my  playing  a  little, 
as  you  may  find  to  your  sorrow,  Maggie 
Allen,"  cried  Edith,  throwing  herself  on  the 
bed  and  bursting  into  tears. 

"  Norah,  you  can  quiet  the  baby  best. 
Come,  Maggie,"  and  Alice  led  the  way  from  the 
room. 

The  excitement  of  the  last  two  days  had 
been  too  much  for  Edith's  impulsive  nature, 
and  this  burst  of  weeping  was,  perhaps,  the 
best  thing  that  could  have  happened  to  relieve 
her.  Had  she  had  any  doubts  about  her  affec- 
tion for  Mr.  Gantly,  this  discussion  put  them  all 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  8/ 

to  flight.  How  would  Miss  Maggie  feel  when 
she  found  out  her  maneuvering  had  been  to  no 
effect,  and  that  the  child  was  preferred  to  the 
flirt? 


88  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

'  For  of  all  sad  words  of  tonge  or  pen, 
The  saddest  are  these,  '  It  might  have  been.'  " 

WHITTIER. 

HREE  weeks  had  passed  since  Edith's 
parents  had  given  their  consent  to  her 
engagement.  They  were  very  loth  to 
do  so  at  first,  on  account  of  her  extreme  youth  ; 
but  after  several  conversations  her  mother — 
finding  that  she  appreciated  the  responsibility 
of  the  step  she  was  about  taking,  and  perceiving 
the  reality  of  her  attachment  to  Mr.  Gantly — 
considered  objection  groundless,  and  the  more 
so  as  she  felt  confident  in  Mr.  Gantly's  guid- 
ance. 

"  Mamma,  it's  utterly  impossible  for  me  to 
finish  this  picture,"  exclaimed  Edith,  petulantly 
throwing  down  her  brush,  and  pushing  back 
her  chair  from  the  easel.  "  My  heart  is  not  in 
the  work.  Just  look  at  those  leaves.  I  declare 
it  is  a  perfect  daub." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  89 

"  I  wonder,  Edith,  that  you  feel  so  about 
this  fair.  Are  you  not  afraid  of  discouraging 
Alice  ?  She  seems  perfectly  wrapt  up  in  it." 

"  I  would  not  discourage  Alice  for  any  thing, 
mamma.  I  know  that  she  is  doing  all  in  good 
faith.  But  it  does  provoke  me  to  see  her  so 
completely  tied  to  Mrs.  Bush's  apron-strings. 
Alice  is  a  mere  cat's-paw,  and  will  do  all  the 
work,  while  Mrs.  Bush  will  go  about  boasting 
of  the  success  of  her  fair." 

"  Do  not  judge  too  hastily,  Edith.  This 
fair  is  for  the  aid  of  the  mill  hands,  and  is  en- 
tirely approved  of  by  Dr.  Cutler." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that,  mamma  ?  Dr.  Cutler 
cannot  say  it  is  positively  wrong,  and  he  thinks 
it  best  to  interest  such  people  as  Mrs.  Bush  in 
church  work." 

"  Then  it  must  be  best,"  replied  Mrs.  Le- 
Roy.  "  Besides,  we  require  all  the  money  to 
keep  up  the  schools,  and  clothe  those  poor 
children." 

"  Very  true.  But  don't  you  see,  mamma,  a 
fair  is  not  almsgiving.  It  is  projected  for  noth- 
ing but  pleasure  and  vanity,  a  regular  bargain 
for  amusement.  We  always  met  the  expenses 


90  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

and  raised  all  the  funds  necessary  without  get- 
ting back  ridiculous  pin-cushions  and  knick- 
knacks  in  exchange." 

"  That  is  very  severe,  Edith.  You  must  not 
think  all  charity  worthless,  but  that  given  with 
unmixed  motives." 

"  Mamma,  I  cannot  believe  such  money  does 
any  good.  It  comes  from  frivolity  instead  of 
self-denial,  and  it  grieves  me  to  see  our  mission 
supported  by  such  funds." 

"  Why  didn't  you  reason  with  Alice  in  this 
way,  and  I  am  sure  she  would  not  have  taken 
part  in  it." 

"  I  did  try  to,  but  she  called  me  high-flown 
and  a  visionary." 

"  It  is  unfortunate,  Edith  ;  but  you  must  not 
show  any  strong  disapproval  now.  There  is 
nothing  really  wrong  in  it,  so  finish  a  few  of 
your  paintings  for  them,  just  enough  to  show 
your  willingness  to  be  amiable,  and  when  you 
are  Mrs.  Gantly  you  may  be  president.  Then 
you  can  do  what  is  best  for  the  welfare  of  the 
society." 

"  It  is  hard,"  sighed  Edith.  "  But  I  suppose  I 
must  submit  Painting  is  out  of  the  question  in  my 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  QI 

present  humor.     I  must  have  a  run  on  the  lawn 
with  Rollo  and  to  get  myself  in  better  spirits. 

"  How  now,  Edith ;  at  your  old  tricks 
again  ?  Do  you  scold  Rollo  because  he 
gives  me  the  welcome  his  mistress  withholds  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Charlie !  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you, 
and  how  well  you  look.  But  when  did  you  get 
back  ?  " 

"  Not  more  than  two  hours  ago.  In  a  hurry 
coming  over  so  soon,  am  I  not  ?  " 

"  Hardly,  I  should  say.  You  have  been 
away  so  long.  I  almost  imagined  you  had 
gone  to  Europe." 

"  You  were  not  very  far  wrong." 

"  Why,  you  don't  tell  me  that  you  are  going ! 
When  do  you  start  ?  How  long  are  you  going 
to  be  away  ?  Of  course  you'll  go  by  a  Cunarder, 
won't  you  ?  Come,  tell  us  all  about  it." 

"  How  can  I,  unless  you  stop  long  enough 
between  your  questions,  for  me  to  answer 
them  ?  Just  take  my  arm,  and  we'll  have  an 
old-fashioned  stroll,  as  I  have  a  great  deal  to 
talk  to  you  about." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  wait  for  a  long  introduction.    Tell 


92  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

me. right  away  if  you  are  going  to  Europe,  and 
then  we'll  have  the  particulars  afterwards." 

"  I  hardly  think  I  can  get  off  to-morrow  or 
next  week  ;  perhaps  not  until  spring.  Never- 
theless, Miss  Impatience,  I  am  going  some- 
time, and  have  mother's  consent." 

"  How  glad  I  am  ;  but  how  came  she  to  con- 
sent ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see  Dr.  Pease  was  at  Newport 
with  us,  and  won  mother's  heart ;  some  of  his 
remedies  had  such  wonderful  effects  on  her 
neuralgia.  Being  my  preceptor,  he  wishes  me 
to  have  every  advantage,  and  so  put  in  a  good 
word  for  me  to  mother,  and  obtained  her  con- 
sent to  my  studying  abroad." 

"  Really  this  is  charming,  Charlie.  What  a 
perfectly  magnificent  time  you  will  have  !  But 
you  won't  go  before  summer,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  the  sooner  I  go,  the  soon- 
er I  shall  get  home,  and  I  am  very  anxious  for 
that  time  to  come." 

"  I  must  say  that's  funny.  You  do  all  in 
your  power  to  get  permission  to  go,  and  at 
the  same  time  are  making  plans  to  come 
home." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  93 

"  What  would  our  life  be,  Miss  Wisehead,  if 
we  had  nothing  to  look  forward  to  ? "  asked 
Charlie,  looking  affectionately  at  Edith.  "  In 
my  case,  I  hope  and  trust  a  great  treasure 
awaits  my  claiming  when  I  return." 

An  electric  shock  seemed  to  pass  through 
Edith.  Her  eyes  were  suddenly  opened  to  a 
position  of  things  she  had  not  dreamed  of,  and 
she  knew  not  how  to  meet  it.  In  an  embar- 
rassed tone  she  answered :  "  I  presume  so. 
You  will  then  take  upon  yourself  the  duties  of 
your  profession." 

"  I  will  have  a  long  life  before  I  find  a  treasure 
in  that,  Edith.  The  treasure  I  refer  to,  is  one 
of  a  higher  value.  Do  you  not  remember  I 
told  you  I  would  some  day  finish  the  conver- 
sation we  began  in  the  library  that  evening?  " 

Edith  seemed  stunned,  and  slowly  answered 
"  Yes." 

Placing  his  hand  over  the  one  that  rested  on 
his  arm,  and  looking  at  her  earnestly,  he  con- 
tinued :  "  I  will  finish  it  now.  I  have  always 
loved  you,  and  now " 

"  Oh  !  spare  me  !  spare  me,  Charlie !  "  gasped 
Edith.  "  I  never  thought  you  loved  me.  It  is 


94  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

too  late  now  ;  I  am  engaged.  Oh  !  help  me  to 
do  my  duty,"  and  sinking  upon  one  of  the  lawn 
chairs  she  sobbed  like  a  child. 

It  was  some  time  before  Charlie  could  fully 
comprehend  Edith's  broken  explanation  ;  but 
an  appreciation  of  his  own  position  having  been 
once  realized,  a  decision  as  to  his  own  line  of 
action  was  soon  reached.  In  those  few  mo- 
ments the  hopeful  youth  became  a  determined 
man. 

"  Edith,  I  understand  it  all.  Being  with  you 
so  constantly,  I  did  not  notice  the  change  from 
childhood,  and  always  thinking  of  your  future 
happiness  as  connected  with  my  own.  I  waited 
for  such  times  as  you  should  thoroughly  under- 
stand the  depth  of  your  feelings  toward  me,  be- 
lieving you  loved  me." 

"  Oh,  Charlie!  Do  not  torture  me  any  more. 
I  do  love  you  dearly,  as  a  brother.  I  never 
thought  of  you  in  any  other  way.  And  now 
that  I  am  promised  to  another,  and  have  given 
him  my  love,  I  know  you  will  help  me  to  do 
my  duty.  Will  you  not  ?  " 

"  Edith,  you  show  your  characteristic  faith- 
fulness. Help  you  do  your  duty !  Yes,  indeed, 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  95 

to  the  extent  of  my  power.  Do  not  for  a  mo- 
ment imagine  that  I  will  in  any  way  lead  you 
from  it.  God  bless  you,  Edith,  and  remember 
that  I  claim  the  title  and  love  of  a  brother." 

Printing  a  kiss  on  her  forehead,  he  placed  her 
hand  on  his  arm,  and  led  her  silently  home. 

Edith  went  immediately  to  her  room.  She 
seemed  like  one  moving  in  a  dream,  to  whom 
comes  far-away  thoughts  of  sweetness,  while 
the  path  of  duty  stretches  out  narrow  and  dis- 
tinct before  her.  Her  trials  and  troubles  here- 
tofore had  been  those  of  ordinary  everyday  life, 
which  she  could  take  to  her  mother,  while  she 
asked  for  advice  and  comfort ;  but  this  was  her 
first  real  grief,  to  be  buried  in  the  depths  of  her 
own  heart,  and  so  completely  entombed  that 
no  one  should  be  wronged  by  its  coming  or  its 
departure. 


96  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER   X. 

What  was  to  him  the  squander'd  wealth  ? 
What  was  to  him  the  burden  of  the  land, 

The  lavish'd  misery  ? 
He  did  but  speak  his  will, 
And  like  the  blasting  siroc  of  the  sands, 

The  ruin  of  the  royal  voice 

Found  its  way  everywhere." 

SOUTHEY. 

DITH  had  been  a  bride  for  some  weeks. 
Her  life  seemed  one  long  day  of  hap- 
piness. Not  only  was  she  the  joy  of 
every  one's  heart,  but  all  nature  seemed  to 
smile  on  her,  and  clothe  itself  with  the  fairest 
flowers  and  brightest  sunshine.  The  wedding 
had  been  the  most  elegant  one  of  the  season. 
Simply  to  say  the  bride  was  beautiful,  wouldfail 
to  award  her  justice.  An  ethereal  halo  seemed 
to  surround  her  as  she  assumed  the  sacred 
promise  of  her  life.  From  that  day  forward  Mr. 
Gantly  apparently  had  but  one  thought,  and  that 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  97 

was  for  her  happiness.  The  Manor  had  been 
thoroughly  renovated,  and  Edith's  boudoir  was 
a  miniature  fairy-land.  Henry  surprised  her 
one  morning  in  her  dainty  retreat,  reclining  on 
a  lounge  of  the  palest  blue.  In  her  delicate 
white  morning  dress  she  looked  so  exceedingly 
picturesque  that  her  brother  paused  before  ex- 
pelling the  vision  by  an  intrusion  of  his  mascu- 
line presence.  He  hesitated  a  moment  on  the 
threshold,  then  came  forward  and  kissed  her  on 
both  cheeks,  at  the  same  time  saying  :  "  I  know 
some  one  who  takes  the  full  benefit  of  luxury." 

"  Henry,  would  you  believe  it,  I  was  at  that 
moment  thinking  that  I  was  almost  too  happy, 
and  had  almost  too  much  luxury." 

"  Time  enough  for  that,  Edith.  Do  not  bor- 
row trouble.  It  comes  without  an  invitation. 
I  came  to  talk  to  you  about  Charlie  ;  I  cannot 
understand  it." 

"  Understand  what,  Henry  ?  " 

"  That's  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you.  The 
night  that  you  were  married,  I  saw  a  gentle- 
man standing  in  the  church  porch.  Something 
in  his  figure  attracted  my  attention,  and  as  we 
passed  I  looked  sharply  at  him.  It  must  have 
$ 


98  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

been  Charlie — I  could  swear  it  was.  His  hat 
was  slouched  over  his  eyes,  and  he  bent  for- 
ward and  looked  into  your  face  as  you 
passed." 

"  Impossible,  Henry.  I  should  have  noticed 
him  ;  and  you  remember  he  told  you  he  was  to 
sail  the  early  part  of  last  month." 

"  The  fact  of  your  not  noticing  him  goes  for 
nothing,  and  I  doubt  if  you  could  have  recog- 
nized me,  as  you  walked  into  the  church,  you 
were  so  abstracted.  No,  no  !  I  was  certain  of 
what  I  saw,  and  it  has  worried  me  ever  since. 
Yesterday  I  went  to  see  Wood,  purposely  to  find 
out  about  that  sailing  business,  and  he  told  me 
that  Charlie  had  been  so  very  much  interested 
in  some  cases  lately,  that  he  had  found  it  impos- 
sible to  leave  before  the  last  of  the  month ;  and, 
to  cap  all,  I  found  by  looking  up  the  old  papers 
it  was  not  until  two  days  after  the  wedding 
that  he  sailed.  So  now  I  am  convinced  that  it 
was  he  I  noticed.  But  what  bothers  me  is 
that  I  cannot  comprehend  why  he,  our  dearest 
friend,  should  act  so  strangely,  and  not  come  to 
your  wedding — at  least  should  have  come  in 
that  way." 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  99 

"  You  must  have  imagined  it,  Henry,"  said 
Edith  listlessly,  and  yet  in  her  heart  she  felt 
certain  it  was  too  true. 

"  Imagination!  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  believe  the 
fellow  is  eccentric.  Wood  says  he  has  been 
looking  very  poorly  of  late,  and  has  worked 
like  a  dog  among  the  poor.  He  thinks  him 
more  calculated  for  a  clergyman  than  any  thing 
else.  Now  I'm  going  to  leave  you,  and  hunt 
up  Mr.  Gantly.  Do  you  know  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  is  in  the  library  writing,  and,  if  I 
mistake  not,  wants  to  see  you,  from  the  way  he 
inquired  if  you  would  be  up  this  morning." 

Mr.  Gantly  was  seated  at  a  large  desk  smok- 
ing, and  surrounded  by  a  quantity  of  papers. 
As  Henry  came  into  the  room  he  greeted  him 
heartily.  "  I  am  so  glad  you  came  up,  Henry. 
I  have  an  annoying  piece  of  business  to  ask 
you  about.  But  have  you  seen  Edith  ?  " 

"  Yes.  And  I  find  her  looking  more  lovely 
than  ever.  But  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  You 
seem  to  have  plenty  of  papers  about  you." 

"  I  should  say  so  ;  and  for  the  life  of  me,  I 
can't  make  any  sense  out  of  them.  I  never 
was  calculated  for  a  business  man,  and  can- 


100  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

not  turn  myself  into  one  at  this  late  day. 
You  see  Parish  attends  to  every  thing,  and 
keeps  things  straight ;  but  it  seems  that  I  should 
have  sent  him  word  about  my  marrying  a 
minor.  It  really  never  entered  my  head.  It 
is  really  quite  laughable,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Hardly  laughable,"  said  Henry  ;  "  rather 
troublesome,  if  you  have  any  conveyances  to 
make." 

"  That  is  just  it,  and  I  should  never  have 
thought  of  it  had  not  Craft  &  Co.  sent  me 
some  papers  that  it  was  necessary  for  Edith  to 
sign.  Being  a  married  man  now,  my  wife 
would  have  to  appear  as  a  party  in  a  suit  they 
are  contesting  for  me.  Upon  the  notary  ask- 
ing her  age,  I  told  him  she  was  seventeen. 
He  smiled,  and  said  he  had  had  a  delightful 
trip,  but  it  would  be  of  no  benefit  to  his  firm 
as  my  wife's  signature  was  not  good  until  she 
came  of  age.  Craft  wrote  immediately  to  Par- 
ish, and  here  is  his  letter  to  me  : — 

"  '  MY  DEAR  GANTLY  : — When  I  left  home 
every  thing  was  in  good  shape,  as  you  remem- 
ber, and,  for  that  matter,  you  were  yourself.  I 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  IOI 

had  no  more  thought  of  your  marrying  than  I 
had  of  taking  such  a  foolish  step  myself.  But 
enough  of  that.  I  wrote  you  my  congratula- 
tions, etc.  However,  judge  of  my  astonishment 
yesterday,  upon  receiving  a  letter  from  Craft, 
stating  your  wife  to  be  a  child  of  seventeen. 
I  don't  think  you  fully  comprehend  the  difficulty 
of  the  position.  But  what  is  cannot  be  helped, 
so  we  must  make  the  best  of  it.  I  will  return 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  set  things  straight  if  I 
can.  You  see  that  suit  against  the  estate  is 
important,  involving  as  it  does  so  large  an 
amount  of  real  property,  and  it  is  necessarily 
very  expensive  to  carry  on.  Furthermore,  your 
property  is  mostly  in  real  estate,  and  cannot 
now  be  advantageously  sold  or  mortgaged  to 
meet  expenses  until  madams  is  of  age.  Craft 
wrote  me  a  very  short  letter  the  other  day,  say- 
ing his  time  was  too  valuable  to  waste,  and  he 
could  not  run  the  risk  of  waiting  four  years  for 
payment.  He  insisted  upon  my  attending  to 
the  business  at  once,  as  you  seem  to  have  more 
ideas  about  love  than  of  affairs  like  this.  He 
was  rather  impudent,  I  confess.  But  you  see 
these  men  get  very  disagreeable  if  you  touch 


102  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

their  pockets.  Your  business  has  kept  me  tied 
down  so  tight  the  past  few  years  that  I  had 
hoped  to  have  had  a  little  rest.  But  I  fear  I 
must  now  go  and  do  some  of  it  over  again.  I 
may  be  home  by  the  next  steamer.  Have  had 
a  charming  time.  I  ran  across  your  cousin 
Depuy  a  short  time  since  at  Brighton.  He 
looked  as  if  he  had  been  living  rather  high. 
Also  went  to  call  on  your  friend  Madame  De 
Lancey,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  visit.  She 
sent  a  number  of  messages,  which  I  will  deliver 
personally.  I  hope  you  have  taken  good  care 
of  the  place,  and  of  Spite,  as  I  want  to  ride 
when  I  get  home.  Regards  and  congratula- 
tions to  your  bride,  and  believe  me  as  ever,  old 
fellow, 

"N.  P." 

"  This  is  rather  serious,  Mr.  Gantly,  unless 
you  have  the  control  of  large  funds  to  carry 
your  property  until*  Edith's  majority.  How 
about  that  ?  " 

"  Really  I  don't  know.  There  was  consid- 
erable personal  property  when  Parish  got  it 
from  the  estate ;  but  in  what  form  it  is  now,  I 
hardly  know ;  but  I  always  had  more  than  I 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  10$ 

wanted,  so  when  he  gets  home  it  will  be  all 
right.  This  Craft  will  be  the  only  bother.  He 
is  very  arbitrary,  and  if  he  makes  up  his  mind 
to  any  thing  we  will  have  to  give  in  to  him  or 
lose  the  case." 

"  Rather  bad,  that;  but  I  know  so  little  about 
law.  Do  you  trust  every  thing  to  Parish  ?  He 
seems  to  speak  of  things  almost  as  if  they  were 
his  own." 

"  Why,  certainly.  He  has  worked  hard  for 
me,  and  takes  more  interest  in  this  business 
than  I  do,  and  being  bachelors  we  have  always 
been  together  and  are  as  intimate  as  brothers." 

"  I  hardly  think  there  are  many  men  honest 
enough  to  have  the  entire  control  of  an  estate 
like  yours." 

"  Very  true,  Henry ;  but  Parish  is  one  in  a 
thousand.  However,  this  is  not  very  agreea- 
ble work,  and  my  little  wife  must  be  getting 
lonely,  so  we  will  go  and  lunch  with  her." 


104  ALL  AB°UT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds, 
Makes  ill  deeds  done  !  " 


R.  PARISH  arrived,  according  to 
promise,  a  few  weeks  after,  and  spent 
several  days  at  the  manor.  He  was  a 
society  man,  fine  looking,  and  a  great  favorite 
with  ladies,  for  he  had  the  faculty  of  adapting 
himself  to  the  tastes  and  pleasures  of  those  he 
was  with,  and  consequently  made  friends  rap- 
idly. To  all  appearances  he  was  soon  deeply 
interested  in  church  work  (as  that  was  Edith's 
and  now  her  husband's  pleasure),  and  any  plan 
Edith  proposed  always  received  his  hearty  sup- 
port, no  matter  what  the  cost.  He  evidently 
admired  her  greatly. 

"  Really,  Gantly,"  said  Mr.  Parish,  coming 
into  the  library  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand, 
some  three  weeks  after  his  return,  "  I  do  not 
know  what  we  are  going  to  do  with  Craft.  He 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  IO5 

is  threatening  to  throw  the  suit  aside,  unless 
some  immediate  arrangement  is  made  to  meet 
the  expenses  as  they  occur.  I  have  all  the 
other  matters  fixed,  and,  as  you  know,  have 
taken  the  risk  of  being  security  for  you,  in 
order  to  raise  money  sufficient  for  current  ex- 
penses until  your  wife  shall  be  of  age.  But 
this  matter  will  take  so  much  money,  I  do  not 
feel  like  shouldering  it.  We  never  can  tell 
what  may  happen  if  Craft  loses  the  case,  with 
all  that  is  sunk  in  it.  He  hints  at  a  kind  of 
partnership  in  the  matter.  I  will  read  you 
what  he  says  : — '  It  being  such  a  long  and 
expensive  litigation,  we  do  not  feel  authorized 
in  carrying  it  on  without  the  certainty  of 
the  money  for  expenses  being  forthcoming  as 
those  expenses  occur.  Unless  Mr.  Gantly  can 
make  such  an  arrangement,  we  must  give  the 
case  up.  Or,  being  familiar  with  his  distaste 
for  business,  we  might  take  an  assignment  of 
the  property  for  a  given  sum,  Mr.  Gantly  sign- 
ing an  agreement  that,  at  the  coming  of  age 
of  his  wife,  she  shall  sign  the  deed  with  him. 
This  releases  him  from  all  further  anxiety. 
We  pay  him  the  sum  agreed  to,  when  a  clear 
5* 


IO6  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

title  is  handed  to  us,  and  bear  all  expenses. 
Inform  us  of  your  client's  wishes.' 
'"Yours, 

'"  CRAFT  &  Co.'" 

"  Well,  that  seems  fair  enough,  Parish  ;  is  it 
not  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  made  up  my  mind.  The  prop- 
erty is  valuable,  if  recovered.  But  we  have 
not  the  money  to  carry  on  such  a  suit  now, 
unless  I  tie  up  your  present  lands  too  much. 
Then  so  much  accumulating  interest  eats  up 
one's  income,  and  further,  a  wife  rather  adds  to 
our  expense,"  said  Parish,  smiling. 

"  There  will  be  property  enough,  Parish, 
even  if  this  be  lost.  So  make  the  best  arrange- 
ment you  can." 

Parish  went  off  whistling,  and  thinking  to 
himself  how  little  his  friend  knew  of  the  world, 
and  how  grasping  men  were. 

"  Be  it  so  ;  I  can't  help  it.  It  will  give  us 
the  use  of  a  few  thousands  more.  I  risked 
rather  more  than  I  should  have  in  that  con- 
founded   stock.  Then  they  have  cleaned 

me  out  several  times  at  the  Club  lately.  So, 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  IO/, 

by  George,  I  must  look  sharp,  until  that  little 
wife  of  ours  gives  possession  of  the  real  estate. 
Here  goes.  I  will  just  write  a  letter  to  Craft 
and  agree,  provided  he  will  pay  us  some  cash 
down." 

Three  days  later  the  agreement  was  signed. 
Craft  paid  some  few  thousands  cash,  and  a 
stated  sum  was  agreed  upon,  to  be  paid  upon 
the  delivery  of  the  title. 


108  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  Whate'er  he  did  was  done  with  so  much  ease, 
To  him  alone  'twas  natural  to  please." 

DRYDEN. 

JHREE  years  passed  rapidly  to  Edith, 
with  sorrow  and  joy  combined.  Had 
she  been  told,  a  few  months  before  her 
marriage,  that  she  would  be  called  on  to  part 
with  all  those  who  were  so  dear  to  her  at  that 
time,  she  would  have  prayed  to  have  the  cross 
taken  from  her,  or  for  her  Heavenly  Father  to 
take  her  first. 

"  O  !  blindness  to  the  future  !  kindly  given, 
That  each  may  fill  the  circle  marked  by  Heaven." 

Henry's  health  failed  a  few  months  after 
Edith's  marriage,  and  he  was  advised  to  go  to 
Europe  for  a  year.  He  sailed  in  the  ill-fated 

,  and  was  never  heard  from.    The  anxiety, 

and  the  hoping  against  hope,  consequent  upon 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  109 

the  failure  of  tidings  from  the  vessel,  then  the 
certainty  of  her  brother's  loss,  so  affected 
her  parents'  health  that  they  rapidly  followed 
each  other  to  the  grave.  It  was  during  these 
trials  that  Edith's  Christian  training  came  to 
her  support,  and  kept  constantly  before  her 
the  necessity  of  nerving  herself  to  the  per- 
formance of  her  duty  to  her  husband  and 
children. 

"  Gantly,  you  have  a  precocious  youth  here. 
Just  come  and  hear  young  Harry  call  me  a 
Moses,"  said  Mr.  Parish,  laughing  heartily, 
while  he  tossed  the  little  fellow  in  the  air.  "  Ah! 
but  here  comes  the  all-important  member  of 
the  community,  in  mamma's  arms.  There,  my 
young  lord,  your  nose  is  out  of  joint.  Go  to 
your  papa.  I  prefer  young  ladies'  society." 

"  You  a  Mosey,"  lisped  Henry,  running  to 
his  papa. 

"  Mrs.  Gantly,  how  wonderfully  baby  has 
improved.  But  I  must  know  her,  as  I  am  to  be 
god-father  to-morrow." 

"  We  are  going  to  call  her  Lena,  after 
mamma,"  said  Edith  sadly,  but  with  a  smile 
as  she  looked  at  the  little  angel  in  her  arms. 


1IO  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

Parish  noticed  the  expression,  and  thought  of 
the  first  time  he  saw  her,  a  mere  child- wife,  in 
his  friend's  home.  Edith  had  not  changed,  ex- 
cept that  she  had  acquired  a  quiet  thoughtful- 
ness,  which  improved  her  beauty. 

"  Gantly,"  said  Parish  one  evening  on  his 
return  from  town,  "  I  have  been  thinking  a 
winter  in  town  would  be  beneficial  to  both  your 
wife  and  yourself.  You  are  not  looking  as 
robust  as  of  old.  You  used  to  be  on  the  go  so 
constantly,  that  this  sedentary  life  does  not 
agree  with  you.  Don't  you  think  it  would  be 
better  to  enjoy  a  little  of  the  outside  world, 
Mrs.  Gantly  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  hardly  know,  Mr.  Parish.  I  am  so 
entirely  happy  here  that  I  never  think  of  or 
care  for  any  change.  Then  you  must  know 
that  I  am  not  a  mother  likely  to  leave  my  chil- 
dren to  the  care  of  servants,  and  court  society. 
I  love  them  too  well." 

"  Very  true.  And  that  very  devotion  to 
your  children,  without  some  of  the  excitement 
of  life,  will  shortly  affect  your  health.  Nora 
is  so  fond  of  you,  I  should  consider  her  compe- 
tent to  oversee  the  nurses." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  Ill 

"  She  is  perfectly  so,  doubtless.  But  I  am  so 
happy  with  my  little  ones." 

"  And  I  think  you  would  be  equally  so  dur- 
ing a  little  run  to  town.  Undoubtedly  you 
would  contribute  much  toward  others'  happi- 
ness by  letting  them  know  you.  Why,  just 
think  of  none  of  your  husband's  friends  hav- 
ing ever  seen  you.  Of  course  your  mourning 
would  prevent  your  indulging  in  any  thing  very 
gay.  But  your  position  would  certainly  sur- 
round you  with  the  elite  of  society.  Now  let 
me  engineer  this  movement,  Gantly.  I  know 
just  the  thing  that  would  suit  you.  Remember 
Timpson  ?  Well,  he  has  been  speculating  be- 
yond his  depth  lately,  and  I  lent  him  a  few 
thousands  to  help  him  out  of  his  scrape.  He 
has  a  very  fine  house,  elegantly  furnished,  and 
almost  new.  Last  week  he  told  me  that  if  he 
could  rent  it  for  the  winter,  he  would  do  so, 
and  go  with  his  family  to  Europe.  Now,  as  he 
is  under  obligations  to  me,  I  can  get  the  house 
on  my  own  terms.  Then,  again,  remember 
your  wife  will  be  of  age  in  a  few  months,  and 
there  will  be  many  papers  to  sign,  and  such 
matters,  requiring  her  presence  in  town.  I 


112  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

think  you  had  better  fall  in  with  my  plan.  By 
the  way,  there  is  your  father's  estate,  Mrs. 
Gantly,  to  be  settled." 

"  Oh!  that  will  be  but  little  trouble,"  replied 
Edith.  "  Papa's  affairs  were  much  involved,  and 
as  Alice  is  about  to  marry  Dr.  Cutler's  nephew, 
a  'missionary  to  Japan,  I  intend  to  give  her  all 
my  share,  with  the  exception  of  some  stocks  I 
heard  papa  once  say  he  wished  kept  for  his 
grandchildren.  You  can  attend  to  those  few 
matters  for  me,  can  you  not,  Mr.  Parish  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  with  pleasure  ;  but  I  will  not  give 
up  my  point ;  particularly  as  you  say  your 
sister  is  going  to  leave  you.  That  in  itself  is 
another  point  in  favor  of  my  argument." 

"  But  think  of  the  trouble  of  keeping  two 
houses,  Mr.  Parish?" 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Gantly,  you  shall  have  no 
bother.  The  house  is  perfect.  I  know  Timp- 
son  was  a  wealthy  and  luxurious  man.  You 
need  only  move  a  part  of  your  servants,  say 
the  nurses  and  Matthew.  I  will  provide  the 
other  servants,  and  have  all  in  readiness  for 
you.  Old  John  has  taken  the  horses  to  the 
city  so  often  in  your  husband's  bachelor  days, 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  113 

that  you  need  not  give  that  department  a 
thought." 

"  Well,  I  presume  I  must  yield.  I  much 
prefer  remaining  at  home  ;  but  your  kindness 
and  willingness,  as  usual,  to  take  all  the  trouble 
upon  yourself,  leaves  no  excuse  for  a  refusal." 

"  You  are  right,  Edith ;  and  Parish  has 
opened  my  eyes  to  the  fact  that  I  have  been 
keeping  you  too  long  shut  up  here,  my  pet. 
Be  kind  enough  to  take  the  house  immediately, 
Parish.  'Pon  my  word,  old  fellow,  we  would 
never  be  able  to  live  without  you." 


114  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

'  L'  adresse  et  1'artifice  out  passe  dans  mon  coeur, 
Qu'on  a  sons  cet  habit  et  d'esprit  et  de  ruse." 


HIGH  way,  Parish  ? "  said  a  fashiona- 
ble young  man,  taking  his  arm  famil- 
iarly, as  he  sauntered  up  the  avenue. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Bob.  How  are  you  ?  On 
my  way  to  the  Club  for  an  hour.  We  are  en- 
gaged out  to  dine,  and  I  have  nothing  to  do  to 
kill  time." 

"  You  seem  to  be  killing  lots  of  it  lately  with 
that  stunning  wife  of  Gantly's.  I  say,  you  are 
a  lucky  dog." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  You  appear  to  have 
forgotten  your  old  proverb,  'Humanum  est 
errare ! ' ' 

"  Mean !  Why,  do  you  suppose  we  are  all 
blind  at  the  Club  ?  The  idea  of  a  fellow  like 
you,  who  always  ignored  the  very  name  of  pet- 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  115 

ticoat  government,  now  to  be  devoted,  body 
and  time,  to  a  woman — I  will  not  say  soul,  for 
I  have  my  doubts  of  your  having  one." 

"  Preposterous,  man !  You  are  well  aware 
that  I  have  to  manage  all  of  Mr.  Gantly 's 
business,  and  am  like  one  of  the  family.  I  am 
not  a  man  to  have  a  penchant  for  a  married 
woman,  especially  my  client's  wife.  Gantly 
is  not  very  well,  and  I  am  rather  trotting  them, 
to  brace  him  up  a  little." 

"  Splendid  idea  !  I  wish  I  could  get  a  chance 
to  brace  his  wife  up.  Call  on  me,  if  you  want 
any  help.  She's  a  regular  out  and  outer." 

"  You  mistake  the  party,  Bob.  Mrs.  Gantly 
is  not  a  society  woman." 

"  Isn't  she  ?  Oh  !  I  don't  take  much  stock 
in  pious  females.  There  is  usually  a  streak 
of  diablerie  under  their  smooth  counte- 
nances." 

"  Bob,  my  knowledge  of  your  harmlessness 
is  all  that  saves  your  head  from  the  weight  of 
my  cane." 

"  No  offense  meant,  Parish.  I  shall  not  in- 
terfere with  your  little  game.  But  has  she  not 
a  sister  to  console  me  with  ?  " 


Il6  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Yes,  but  not  in  the  market.  She  has  but 
two  months  since  married  a  clergyman  and 
gone  to  Japan." 

"  By  Jo  !  That  is  sad.  Well,  introduce  me 
to  Madame  before  they  leave  town,  won't 
you?  You  can  trust  to  my  not  peaching 
about  your  old  flames." 

"  I'll  see  about  it.  Here  we  are  at  the  Club, 
where  I  must  have  a  quiet  smoke.  Good-by, 
Bob.  Take  care  of  yourself,  and  please  remem- 
ber. '  Honi  soit  qui  malypense.'" 

Parish  was  soon  seated  in  an  easy-chair,  with 
a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and,  to  all  appearance, 
deeply  interested  in  a  paper.  But  he  did  not 
read.  Thoughts,  sometimes  expressed  ones,  of 
no  pleasing  character,  ran  through  his  brain 
with  distracting  vividness. 

"  I  have  been  unfaithful  to  my  trust.  And 
how  am  I  to  remedy  the  evil  ?  I  did  not  in- 
tend to  defraud  my  friend.  Surely  I  am  not  to 
blame  if  stocks  fluctuate  so.  A  man  cannot  tell 
for  one  hour  what  he  has.  Then  again,  if  I 
had  been  lucky,  it  would  have  been  for  his 
benefit.  But  those  confounded  debts  of  honor! 
And  then,  again,  I  was  fool  enough  to  lend  De 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  1 1/ 

Hay  five  thousand,  and  Currie  ten,  and  I  lost 
both.  Well,  never  mind!  By  gracious  I  be- 
lieve I  have  the  dyspepsia;"  and  jumping  up 
from  his  chair,  Parish  walked  up  and  down  the 
long  reading-room.  "  I  have  it,"  cried  he, 
thrusting  his  hands  into  his  side-pockets.  "  A 
bright  idea !  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing 
till  that  fool  Bob  put  it  into  my  head.  He  is 
only  a  mouthpiece  for  the  gossip  of  those  fel- 
lows, and  if  I  have  the  name  I  may  as  well 
have  the  gain.  Yes,  I  see  a  way  out  of  my 
difficulties.  Our  lovely  Edith  seems  to  depend 
on  me  for  advice  in  every  thing.  Now,  those 
stocks  her  father  left  her  are  valuable,  at  least 
to  me  at  present.  I  will  try  and  get  control  of 
them,  and  then  if  I  can  carry  Gantly's  W.  &  W. 
stocks  for  six  months  longer,  I  know  they  must 
go  up,  and  in  that  event  every  thing  will  be 
couleur  de  rose.  Gantly,  poor  fellow,  does  not 
look  as  if  he  were  long  for  these  gay  and  fes- 
tive scenes,  and  in  that  case And  why 

not  ?  I  am  distingue,  at  least  some  think  so, 
and  confidence  often  ends  in  love.  Turn 
things  how  they  may,  I  have  got  to  play  my 
cards  carefully,  but  I  think  I  am  equal  to  the 


Il8  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


emergency.  Six  o'clock!  How  the  time  has 
flown !  We  are  invited  at  eight,  so  I  must  go 
immediately,  if  I  want  to  start  my  game  to- 
night 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  119 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"A  slippery  and  subtle  knave  ;   a  finder  out  of  occasions, 
that  has  an  eye  can  stamp  and  counterfeit  advantages." 


CAME  rather  early,  Gantly,"  said 
Parish,  as  he  entered  the  luxurious 
drawing-room,  so  we  could  have  a 
few  moments  business  talk.  Our  life  is  so 
gay  now,  the  moments  for  rational  conversa- 
tion are  few." 

"  You  are  right.  We  have  been  rather 
lively  for  quiet  people — a  dinner  or  reception 
every  night.  I  wish  I  could  get  a  little  time  for 
the  opera." 

"  But  do  you  not  enjoy  this  life  ?  I  think 
your  wife  should,  from  the  attention  she  re- 
ceives." 

"  Oh  yes,  we  enjoy  it ;  at  least  Edith  does, 
and  that  is  all  I  care  for.  I  tire  easily  of  soci- 
ety. But  what  did  you  want  to  speak  to  me 
about?  That  Craft  matter  is  it?  Now  that 


I2O  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

Edith  is  of  age,  I  suppose  they  want  the 
deeds." 

"  No.  That  is  not  it.  They  cannot  take  the 
title  yet.  I  do  not  know  as  you  understand  the 
case  correctly.  You  see  the  suit  was  against 
your  father's  estate,  and  some  of  the  property 
was  improved  from  which  they  received  rents. 
The  court  now  holds  the  title  for  you  until 
such  time  as  it  may  be  decided  whether  you  are 
entitled  to  the  rents  from  the  date  of  your 
father's  death  or  not.  It  may  be  some  months 
before  all  is  finally  settled.  What  I  wanted  to 
ask  you  about  was  some  stocks  and  bonds 
your  wife  owns ;  a  portion  of  her  father's  es- 
tate. I  believe  the  interest  is  due  on  them, 
and  if  she  wishes  me  to  relieve  her  of  the  trou- 
ble of  collecting  it,  I  will  take  the  papers,  and 
place  them  with  yours,  in  our  safe  at  the  office, 
and  she  need  have  no  trouble  except  receiving 
the  money,  which  most  ladies  are  willing  to 
do." 

"  Here  she  comes,  Parish.  She  is  of  age 
and  can  speak  for  herself." 

Edith  walked  up  to  her  husband,  and  looking 
up  in  his  face  in  her  old  mischievous  way, 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  121 

asked  :  '•  Have  you  been  taking  my  name  in 
vain  ? " 

"  By  no  means,  Mrs.  Gantly,"  said  Parish. 
"  But  allow  me  to  congratulate  you  on  your 
charming  appearance  this  evening,  not  but  that 
it  is  always  faultless." 

"  You  flatter  me  too  much,"  answered  Edith, 
slightly  blushing.  "  But  what  were  you  saying 
about  me  as  I  entered  ?  " 

' '  Simply  this,  my  dear  :  Mr.  Parish  was  re- 
minding me  that  you  had  some  interest  due  on 
your  stocks.  Have  you  collected  it  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Gantly  smiling. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  laugh.  I  did  not  even 
know  that  you  could  collect  interest  on  stocks." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  Mr.  Parish  kindly  proposes 
to  take  charge  of  it  for  you." 

"  Oh  !  thanks.  When  shall  I  get  them  for 
you  ?  I  will  go  and  get  them  now  if  you  wish. 
I  have  never  even  looked  at  them." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well,"  said  Mr.  Par- 
ish ;  "  and  then  I  need  not  trouble  you  in  the 
morning,  as  I  go  down  town  early." 

Edith  returned  with  the  envelope  (her  in- 
heritance). How  little  she  realized  what  she 
6 


122  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

was  so  carelessly  doing!  "  Here  they  are,  Mr. 
Parish ;  the  seal  is  not  even  broken." 

"  Ah !  I  see,"  said  Parish,  turning  them  over 
one  by  one.  "  It  will  only  be  necessary  for 
you  to  sign  your  name.  I  believe  there  is  ink 
in  the  library.  I  will  bring  it  to  you." 

During  the  drive  to  their  friends'  dinner- 
party Parish  seemed  like  one  who  had  taken 
opium.  He  hardly  knew  what  he  had  done,  or 
how  his  plan  had  come  so  ready-made  to  his 
hand.  He  would  triumph  yet.  He  now  had 
the  means  in  his  pocket  of  placing  all  his  fool- 
ish speculations  on  a  firm  basis. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  123 


CHAPTER    XV. 

1  Miss  not  the  occasion  ;  by  the  forelock  take 

That  subtile  Power,  the  never-halting  Time, 
Lest  a  mere  moment's  putting-off  should  make 
Mischance  almost  as  heavy  as  a  crime." 

jOW  little  time  I  get  for  any  thing  but 
the  world,"  mused  Edith,  as  she  sat 
by  a  bright  fire  in  her  dressing-room. 
"  What  a  vain  show  it  all  is.  Still  I  like  it.  If 
I  allowed  myself  to  follow  my  inclination  I  fear 
I  might  give  up  altogether  to  its  poisonous  at- 
mosphere, for  I  find  my  vanity  is  pleased  with 
attention  and  admiration.  I  must  be  weary  of 
this  false  life  to-day,  however,  or  else  I  am  not 
very  well.  There  is  a  fearful  depression  about 
my  chest." 

"  A  lady  wishes  to  see  you,  ma'am." 

"  Who  is  it,  Matthew  ?  " 

"  She  told  me  to  tell  you,  ma'am,  that  it  was 
Miss  Rachel  Van  Ant-wort,  as  near  as  I  can 


124  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

get  it,  ma'am.  I  asked  for  a  card,  please,  and 
she  was  quite  put  about,  and  said  that  she 
didn't  require  tickets  to  get  in  where  she  visited. 
But  if  I  was  afraid  she  would  steal  tidies  or 
h'ornaments,  she  would  just  sit  in  the  hall.  I 
begged  her  pardon,  and  told  her  my  memory 
was  not  very  good  for  names,  and  she  said  to 
1  tell  you  it  was  your  mother's  cousin.'  " 

"Very  well,  Matthew,  I'll  be  down  presently." 
"  How  strange,"  mused  Edith,  "  Cousin  Ra- 
chel Van  Ant-wort  !  I  heard  mamma  talk 
about  her.  Perhaps  Norah  can  tell  me  about 
her.  I  am  glad  she  has  come  ;  but  wonder  how 
she  knew  that  I  was  here.  I  should  have  called 
on  the  old  lady,  I  presume,  but  I  had  really 
forgotten  her  existence.  I  am  particularly  em- 
barrassed. It  is  so  hard  to  know  what  to  say 
to  old  ladies." 

By  this  time  Edith  had  reached  the  drawing- 
room  door,  and  was  much  inclined  to  laugh  at 
her  visitor,  whose  back  was  toward  her.  She 
was  tall  and  thin,  with  a  heavy  shawl  pinned 
tight  around  her  shoulders,  and  a  bonnet  re- 
mote from  the  present  fashion.  She  stood 
gazing  intently  at  one  of  the  paintings.  Edith 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  12$ 

came  forward  with  her  characteristic  ease,  and 
as  she  extended  her  hand  to  welcome  her  pre- 
sumed cousin,  the  old  lady  took  both  hands, 
raising  her  glasses  to  her  forehead,  and  studied 
Edith  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Well,  you  are  like  your  mother,  but  rather 
more  like  a  doll.  All  that  untidy  hair  about 
your  forehead  makes  a  difference.  I  suppose 
you  never  heard  of  me,  did  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  mamma  speak  of  cousin  Ra- 
chel, and  presume  you  must  be  the  one.  I  am 
very  glad  to  see  you.  Let  us  go  into  the 
library,  it  is  more  sociable  there." 

"Well,  suppose  we  do.  These  chairs  don't 
look  as  if  they  were  meant  for  use." 

"  I  can  assure  you  they  are,"  answered  Edith 
sweetly.  "  But  it  is  so  lovely  in  you  to  come 
and  see  me,  that  I  want  to  make  you  as  com- 
fortable as  possible.  And  besides,  you  must 
see  my  babies.  It  is  too  cold  to  bring  them  in 
here." 

"  How  many  children  have  you  ?  Let  me 
see  now,  what's  your  name?  I  remember  it 
was  something  fancy." 

"  Edith  Le  Roy  Gantly  now." 


126  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Oh,  yes.  And  Alice  was  the  other  girl, 
and  Henry  the  boy.  Well,  your  mother  got  a 
queer  notion  for  fancy  names.  She  was  chris- 
tened Belinda ;  but  nothing  would  do  but  she 
must  be  called  Lena.  Her  father's  name  was 
Josiah,  and  a  good  name  it  was,  meaning  'given 
by  the  Lord.'  But  that  was  not  fashionable,  so 
her  son  must  be  called  Henry.  Well,  they  are 
all  gone  now,  and  I'll  be  following  them  soon." 

"  I  should  hope  not,  cousin.  You  are  look- 
ing well.  Have  you  not  a  brother  ?  "  Edith 
ventured  to  ask.  She  had  an  indistinct  recol- 
lection of  hearing  her  mother  telling  some  story 
about  a  bachelor  cousin  and  his  sister. 

"  Yes  ;  Stephen.  He  is  mostly  the  cause  of 
my  coming  here.  You  see  I  do  not  like  to 
meddle  with  other  peoples'  affairs.  But  Stephen 
is  so  particular  to  do  his  duty  in  all  things,  that 
he  over-persuaded  me.  '  For,'  said  he,  '  we  are 
the  nearest  relations  the  girl  has  now,  and  if 
my  suspicions  are  correct,  we  can  warn  her  ;  and 
if  I  am  mistaken,  why  there  is  no  harm  done.'  " 

"  I  cannot  understand  you,  Cousin  Rachel," 
said  Edith,  nervously. 

"  But  you  will,  though,  when  I  have  finished. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  I2/ 

Now,  didn't  your  father  leave  you  some  of  your 
mother's  bank  stock,  and  some  five  hundred 

shares  of  the  D Mining  Company  stock, 

with  some  others  that  I  have  forgotten  the 
name  of?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  have  you  got  them  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes.  They  have  been  with  my  hus- 
band's papers  at  the  office  for  some  three 
months." 

"  At  what  office  ?  I  thought  your  husband 
never  did  any  business." 

"That  is  correct.  But  Mr.  Gantly  has  a 
lawyer  that  attends  exclusively  to  his  affairs. 
So  the  office  is  like  his  own." 

"  Humph !  But  how  do  you  know  your 
stocks  are  in  the  office  ? " 

"  Because  Mr.  Parish  told  me  he  would  at- 
tend to  them  for  me.  I  believe  there  was  in- 
terest to  collect." 

"  Did  you  give  him  the  power  to  sell  or  dis- 
pose of  them  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  He  thought  it  would  save 
me  the  trouble,  so  offered  to  see  that  they 
were  properly  attended  to." 


128  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  You  misguided  girl !  To  save  yourself  a 
little  thought  or  trouble,  you  place  your  all  in 
the  hands  of  another.  Do  you  not  know  that 
we  must  look  after  our  own  goods  ?  Others 
will  not  carry  our  burdens,  except  for  their  own 
gain.  I  will  not  ask  if  your  husband  advised 
it,  for  I  am  told  that  he  is  more  a  dupe  than 
you  are,  and  sees  no  wrong  in  this  man.  Now 
I  would  have  you  know  that  your  stocks  are 
not  in  that  office.  They  have  been  sold  some 
weeks  ago.  My  brother  now  owns  them.  He 
heard  that  they  were  to  be  sold,  and  got  a 
friend  to  buy  them  from  your  man  of  law. 
Finding  every  thing  was  entirely  in  this  law- 
yer's hands  he  was  suspicious,  and  has  since 
been  making  inquiries.  He  hears  that  this  Mr. 
Parish  has  entire  control  of  your  husband's 
property,  and  is  much  involved  by  losses  on 
the  street,  together  with  gambling  debts.  Now, 
it  remains  for  you  to  take  this  business  into 
your  own  hands.  I  have  done  my  duty." 

"  But,"  gasped  Edith,  "  it  must  be  a  mis- 
take. Why,  Mr.  Parish  is  like  my  husband's 
brother,  and  is  beyond  suspicion." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  you  think  so.     And,  in- 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  129 

deed,  very  often  we  cannot  trust  our  own 
blood.  Still,  I  did  not  want  to  alarm  you," 
said  the  old  lady,  her  heart  melting  at  the  signs 
of  Edith's  distress.  "  It  may  not  be  as  bad  as 
they  think.  Keep  your  eyes  open,  and  just 
ask  about  that  stock.  I  must  now  be  getting 
home. " 

6* 


130  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  The  shadows  lay  along  Broadway, 

Twas  near  the  twilight  tide,— 
And  slowly  there  a  lady  fair 
Was  walking  in  her  pride. 
Alone  walked  she  ;  but  viewlessly 
Walked  spirits  at  her  side." 

N.  P.  WILLIS. 

Knavery's  plain  face  is  never  seen  till  used." 

OTHELLO. 

iDITH  was  too  much  shocked  not  to 
feel  relieved  at  her  guest's  departure. 
She  sat  with  her  head  bowed  on  her 
hands,  trying  to  collect  her  scattered  thoughts. 
Her  husband  had  gone  with  a  friend  to  a  sale 
of  paintings.  But  even  if  he  had  been  at 
home,  she  would  hardly  have  dared  to  tell  him 
what  she  had  heard,  as  he  had  lately  been  ill ; 
and  the  physician  had  cautioned  her  against 
any  sudden  excitement. 

"  Oh !  this   must  be  all  a  mistake,"  argued 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  131 

Edith.  "  Why,  Mr.  Parish  is  a  member  of  the 
church,  and  he  surely  would  not  be  so  faithless 
as  to  injure  the  man  who  has  done  every 
thing  for  him.  I  am  thoroughly  disturbed,  and 
the  only  way  to  relieve  my  mind  is  to  go  right 
to  him  myself,  and  have  all  cleared  up.  I  have 
never  been  down  town  alone,  and  'tis  getting 
late  ;  but  I  think  I  am  equal  to  almost  any 
emergency  now,  and  this  suspense  is  the  worst 
kind  of  agony.  I  will  tell  Norah  to  say  I  am 
shopping,  if  I  should  be  detained." 

Shortly  afterward  Edith  stepped  from  the 
house,  closely  vailed,  and  entered  a  horse-car. 
When  she  reached  the  end  of  the  route,  and 
the  conductor  called  out,  "  Astor  House,"  she 
let  him  assist  her  out,  and  after  looking  around 
helplessly  for  a  few  moments,  again  turned  to 
him  and  asked  :  "  Will  you  please  tell  me  how 
to  get  to  Wall  Street  ?  Is  it  up  or  down  ?  " 
Before  he  could  answer,  a  gentleman,  who  was 
just  entering  the  car,  stepped  toward  her,  and 
said  :  "  Will  you  not  allow  me  to  assist  you, 
madam  ?  I  cannot  be  mistaken.  This  is  Mrs. 
Gantly,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Edith  raised  her  eyes  and  recognized  Mr. 


132  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

Scott.  She  had  hardly  seen  him  since  her 
marriage. 

"  Which  way  are  you  going,  Mrs.  Gantly  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  go  to  Wall  Street ;  and,  would 
you  believe  it,  I  do  not  know  how  to  get  there. 
I  have  never  been  down  here  except  in  a  car- 
riage." 

"  I  can  fully  understand  your  dilemma  ;  so 
allow  me  to  be  oarsman  this  time." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Edith,  "  how  long  ago  that 
seems.  I  had  almost  forgotten  it,"  and  they 
talked  gayly  until  they  reached  the  office  Edith 
was  in  search  of. 

Mr.  Scott  left  her  after  having  seen  her 
safely  within  the  door.* 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Gantly,"  said  Parish.  "  I  am 
greatly  surprised  to  see  you  here.  Is  there 
any  thing  the  matter.  I  hope  your  husband  is 
not  ill." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Edith  smiling.  "  I  do  not 
wonder  at  your  surprise.  Doubtless  you 
would  have  been  more  so  had  you  seen  me 
when  I  left  the  car.  Had  not  a  friend  recog- 
nized me  I  never  could  have  found  my  way 
here.  I  wanted  to  see  you  for  a  few  mo- 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  133 

ments,  Mr.  Parish,  so  was  rash  enough  to  come 
down  alone." 

"  Indeed  you  were  rash,  Mrs.  Gantly.  Had 
you  telegraphed,  I  should  have  gone  up  imme- 
diately." 

"  I  did  not  think  of  that,  I  came  on  the  im- 
pulse of  the  moment ;  and  now  that  I  am  here 
I  don't  know  how  to  explain  myself,"  hesitated 
Edith. 

"  Do  you  want  any  thing?  Can  I  assist  you 
in  any  way  ?  "  asked  Parish,  showing  the  deep- 
est interest. 

"  Well,  yes.  I  want  the  stocks  I  gave  you. 
They  were  mamma's,  and  I  want  to  keep  them 
for  the  children." 

"  Certainly.  But  you  could  have  asked  me 
that  to-night.  I  am  sorry  you  have  fatigued 
yourself  so." 

"I  am  not  fatigued,  but  I  have  been  consid- 
erably worried.  My  cousin  told  me  that  you 
had  sold  the  stocks,  some  of  them  being  shares 
in  her  brother's  bank,  and  I  did  not  believe  it, 
so  came  to  ask  you  myself." 

Parish's  blood  seemed  to  turn  green.  His 
skin  certainly  was  of  that  color.  In  a  moment 


134  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

he  replied  :  "  You  are  a  wonderfully  plucky 
woman ,  and  I  am  glad  I  have  made  such  a 
good  investment  for  you.  I  did  sell  the  stock, 
and  have  converted  the  proceeds  into  G.  and  C. 
R.  R.  stock,  which  will  pay  twice  as  much." 

"  But  I  do  not  want  that,"  said  Edith,  getting 
her  courage  up.  "  I  must  have  what  I  gave 
you." 

"  Well,  if  you  insist,"  said  Parish,  with  the 
utmost  indifference,  "  I  will  buy  it  back." 

"  How  soon  can  I  have  it  ? "  asked  Edith  ; 
"by  Friday?" 

"  I  will  endeavor  to  indulge  your  whim. 
But  have  you  consulted  your  husband  concern- 
ing these  matters  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Edith,  looking  him  steadily  in 
the  face.  "  I  did  not  wish  to  worry  him  until 
my  suspicions  were  confirmed." 

"  Suspicions,  Mrs.  Gantly?  I  do  not  under- 
stand you,"  said  Parish  changing  color. 

"  I  do  not  consider  it  necessary  to  explain  to 
you,  sir." 

Parish  was  staggered,  and  for  a  moment 
seemed  to  be  dazed,  and  to  lose  his  usual  self- 
possession. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  135 

"  But,  madam,  be  careful  what  you  do.  Re- 
member where  you  are.  You  did  not  stop  to 
think  of  Mrs.  Grundy  when  you  came  to  my 
office  alone.  Of  course  there  was  no  harm  in 
it.  But  you  know  what  a  flame  a  few  words 
from  me  will  kindle,  and  how  readily  the  world 
will  talk  about  a  beautiful  woman  who  has  a 
husband  old  enough  to  be  her  father " 

"Silence,  sir!  No  words  can  express  the 
utter  contempt  I  have  for  you,  Mr.  Parish,"  said 
Edith,  with  flashing  eyes.  "  You  have  a  clerk. 
Call  him  to  accompany  me  to  the  cars  ;  and  re- 
member, sir,  I  shall  expect  my  bonds  on  Fri- 
day." 

"  What  a  fool  I  am,"  said  Parish  after  Edith 
had  departed,  "  to  have  so  lost  control  of  my- 
self. I  might  have  known  what  the  effect 
would  be  with  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Gantly.  This 
is  a  confounded  mess.  I  never  dreamt  of  such 
a  complication.  And  how  am  I  to  weather  it  ? 
I  would  almost  rather  die  than  live  to  see 
Gantly  in  such  a  position  as  will  inevitably  re- 
sult if  the  market  does  not  change.  Great 
God !  what  have  I  done  ?  And  those  damna- 
ble cards  the  cause  of  it  all.  Yet  this  won't  do. 


136  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

I  must  keep  up  my  pluck,  and  perhaps  the 
Fates  may  change  in  my  favor.  I  will  just  go 
there  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  I  doubt  if 
she  dare  tell  him.  Something  may  turn  up 
yet."  And  so  this  conscience-stricken,  sinning 
man  tried  to  deceive  himself  as  to  the  actual 
condition  of  affairs,  while  every  hour  was  add- 
ing to  the  ruin  he  had  heaped  up  for  his  trust- 
ing friend  by  his  mammon  worship.  "  The 
love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil.  Those 
coveting  after  it  err  from  the  faith  and  pierce 
themselves  through  with  many  sorrows." 

A  few  hours  later  Parish  walked  into  Mr. 
Gantly's  library.  Edith  was  seated  by  the  fire 
with  little  Lena  on  her  lap.  Mr.  Gantly  rose 
from  the  seat  where  he  had  been  guiding  Hen- 
ry's pencil  during  an  attempt  to  draw  mamma's 
picture,  and  welcomed  Parish  as  cordially  as 
ever.  Edith  bowed  and  clasped  her  little  girl 
tightly  in  her  arms,  as  if  the  Erl  King  had 
entered.  She  was  suffering  from  a  headache 
caused  by  the  excitement  of  the  afternoon. 

"  I  have  had  a  delightful  day,  Parish.  An  old 
friend,  Bob  Clark,  came  for  me  to  go  to  the 
private  exhibition  of  Pierson's  gallery.  You 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  137 

know  it  is  to  be  sold.  A  sad  business,  is  it  not  ? 
Do  you  know  the  cause  of  it  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  I  believe  a  depreciation  in 
stocks,"  said  Parish,  slightly  embarrassed. 
"  Clark  says  he  has  lost  every  thing." 

"  Can  it  be  possible  for  a  man  with  so  much 
property  to  lose  all  ?  " 

"  Certainly  it  is  possible  if  a  man  is  not  post- 
ed. And  it  requires  a  large  cash  margin  when 
one  has  real  estate  to  carry." 

"  It  is  sad  for  his  family.  I  understand  his 
daughters  are  teaching.  Why,  Edith,  how  pale 
you  are  ! "  said  Mr.  Gantly  going  to  her. 

"  The  room  is  very  warm,  and  if  you  will  take 
Lena  to  Norah,  I  will  retire.  Excuse  me,  Mr. 
Parish." 

Poor  Edith !  Her  heart  was  too  full  to  sleep. 
She  felt  that  for  her  a  storm  was  impending, 
and  that  she  must  nerve  herself  to  meet  it 
bravely.  She  had  felt,  at  the  time  of  her  pa- 
rents' death,  that  no  suffering  could  be  equal  to 
such  separations.  She  was  then  consoled  and 
comforted  by  her  husband's  love  and  sympathy. 
But  now  this  mental  agony  seemed  more  than 
human  nature  could  bear,  for  she  saw  all  the 


138  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

distress  that  was  coming  to  her  husband.  She 
reasoned  with  herself,  and  realized  how  little 
thought  she  had  given  to  the  worldly  bless- 
ings bestowed  upon  her.  When  she  had  prayed 
for  strehgth  to  meet  the  emergency  boldly,  she 
rose  from"  her  knees  strengthened  in  mind  and 
firmly  satisfied  that  it  was  her  duty  to  repre- 
sent the  matter  to  her  husband  without  further 
delay,  and,  by  meeting  it  cheerfully,  be  his  help- 
mate in  adversity  as  well  as  in  prosperity. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


139 


' 


CHAPTER 


XV 1 1. 


"  Things  without  all  remedy 
Should  be  without  regard.     What's  done  is  done. 

MACBETH 

OW  came  you  to  give  this  paper  t 
Mr.  Craft?     Did  you   fully  under- 
stand the  conditions  required  ?  " 

"  I  am  fully  aware  you  will  shake  your  head  at 
such  an  unbusiness-like  transaction,  Mr.  Bliss  ; 
but  I  confess  I  did  not  understand  them.  I  al- 
ways relied  on  Parish's  judgment.  He  advised 
my  signing.  I  did  so,  and  of  course  will  hold  to 
my  agreement." 

"Then  it  must  be  attended  to  immediately, 
as  I  find  a  clause  in  it  requiring  your  wife's 
signature  before  the  expiration  of  six  months 
after  she  attains  her  majority,  or  you  forfeit  the 
paltry  purchase-money.  I  must  say  that  it  is 
the  most  outrageous  document  I  ever  read.  Do 
you  not  think  that  Parish  had  an  interest  in  the 
agreement  ?  " 


140  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  judge.  I  have 
faith  in  all  human  nature.  I  can  see  that  the 
world  will  censure  me,  but  no  one  can  appreci- 
ate the  friendship  there  was  between  us.  We 
were  more  than  brothers  ;  I  trusted  every  thing 
to  him." 

"  But  did  you  sign  these  papers  and  deeds 
without  reading  them  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  I  should  much  sooner  have  sub- 
jected some  paper  of  my  own  composition  to  a 
thorough  scrutiny  to  see  if  I  had  cheated  my- 
self, than  to  have  suspected  him.  He  was  my 
constant  companion,  a  churchman,  and  is  god- 
father to  my  child." 

"  Oh !  that  cloak  of  Christianity ;  how  many 
widows'  portions  it  has  devoured.  I  have 
known  men  like  Mr.  Parish  go  to  church  daily, 
and  pass  the  alms-plate,  and  yet  take  that  same 
money  and  speculate  with  it ;  some  few,  doubt- 
less, have  been  able  to  cover  their  fraud,  but 
there  are  others,  who,  by  using  their  trust- 
worthy positions  in  the  church  as  a  bait,  have 
brought  the  most  abject  poverty  on  whole  fami- 
lies, while  they  themselves  revel  in  luxury  in 
foreign  lands," 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  14! 

"It  will  be  hard  to  make  me  believe  this  step 
premeditated,"  replied  Mr.  Gantly.  "  He  must 
have  been  roped  in  by  these  gambling  stock- 
exchange  brokers." 

"  You  must  not  be  too  severe,  Mr.  Gantly. 
The  stock  business,  if  done  legitimately,  is  as 
honorable  as  any  other." 

"  Do  you  call  it  an  honorable  business  where 
men  combine  to  break  down  the  credit  of  wor- 
thy corporations,  conspire  to  give  a  fictitious 
value  to  that  which  is  valueless,  and  make  it 
their  aim  to  cheat  each  other  and  swindle  the 
world  ?  Is  that  legitimate  ?  I  can  see  no  dif- 
ference between  a  professional  gambler  in  stocks 
and  any  other  gambler." 

"  Taking  the  middle  view  of  things,  Mr.  Par- 
ish showed  great  want  of  judgment  in  changing 
such  securities  as  yours  were,  and  mortgaging 
your  real  estate.  He  was  not  in  the  '  ring,'  and 
had  to  employ  a  broker  to  keep  himself  posted. 
The  fluctuations  have  been  so  great  lately  that 
in  an  hour  a  man  might  be  utterly  ruined." 

"  That  goes  to  confirm  what  I  said.  Its  very 
basis  is  gambling.  See  the  temptation  it  holds 
out  to  those  greedy  for  wealth.  The  whole  na- 


142  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

tion  will  yet  be  thrown  into  a  state  of  panic  by 
these  '  bulls  and  bears.'  The  greatest  blessing 
that  could  befall  our  country  would  be  the  shut- 
ting up  of  this  legal  gambling  shop.  It  would 
indeed  be  better,  if  these  men  insist  on  follow- 
ing such  a  pursuit,  to  let  them  do  so  in  private, 
where  they  use  a  thicker  kind  of  paper  and 
have  but  four  knaves  in  the  pack." 

"  Your  argument  is  a  strong  one,  but  I  fear 
that  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  profit  by  it.  This 
striving  to  get  rich  suddenly  is  making  our 
whole  country  unstable.  Instead  of  being  sat- 
isfied with  an  honest  return  for  our  labor,  we 
try  to  shirk  our  work,  and  want  a  hundred 
times  more  than  it  is  worth." 

"  Ah !  that  shirking  work  is  the  root  of  the 
evil.  I  shirked  my  work  and  placed  the  tempta- 
tion in  Parish's  hands.  It  is  an  old  saying  that 
inherited  wealth,  instead  of  prompting  to  further 
acquisition,  is  '  a  title-deed  to  sloth.'" 

"Very  true,  my  friend  ;  and  how  many  men 
begin  their  fortunes  where  their  fathers  leave 
off,  and  leave  off  where  their  fathers  began." 

"  That,  I  imagine,  Mr.  Bliss,  is  my  position. 
So  I  must  put  my  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  and 


.ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  143 

gather  up  the  fragments.  I  would  like  you  to 
make  a  thorough  investigation,  so  that  I  may 
see  how  I  stand.  As  Parish  has  the  deeds  for 
all  the  property  it  will  be  necessary  to  bring 
a  suit  for  recovery." 


144  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

"  Deceit  is  the  strong  but  subtle  chain  which  runs  through 
all  the  members  of  a  society,  and  links  them  together  ;  trick, 
or  be  tricked,  is  the  alternative  ;  'tis  the  way  of  the  world,  and 
without  it  intercourse  would  drop."— ANONYMOUS,  1722. 


UNE  was  rapidly  passing  away,  the 
season  had  been  unusually  warm,  and 
people  were  getting  languid  and  de- 
serting the  metropolis.  Mr.  Gantly  had  re- 
turned to  the  manor  early  in  May,  and  immedi- 
ately after  had  brought  a  suit  against  Parish  to 
recover  his  property.  Parish  had  thrown  him- 
self with  the  most  perfect  recklessness  into  the 
maelstrom  of  dissipation  and  fashionable  life. 

We  find  him  dining  at  the  Club  one  hot 
afternoon — not  an  unusual  occurrence — but  the 
hour  was  early  for  him.  He  was  moodily  read- 
ing a  paper,  while  the  solitary  servant  moved 
silently  about  the  large  deserted  dining-room. 
He  several  times  raised  his  eyes  and  looked 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  145 

anxiously  toward  the  door,  as  if  anticipating 
the  arrival  of  a  companion,  then  moved  his 
chair  impatiently  and  stroked  his  long  silky 
mustache.  Then  with  an  arrogant  and  impa- 
tient manner  he  called  to  the  servant  to  look 
into  the  reading-room  and  see  if  Mr.  Gordon 
had  not  arrived. 

"  He  is  just  entering  the  room,  sir,"  was  the 
unexpected  reply. 

Parish  looking  up  quickly,  met  the  sharp 
glance  of  his  expected  friend.  The  entering 
stranger  was  a  tall,  handsome  man,  with  bold 
features,  rather  prominent  nose,  keen  black 
eyes,  while  his  fine  receding  forehead  spoke  of 
the  intellect  his  silver  locks  covered.  His  man- 
ner was  most  gentlemanly  and  prepossessing. 

"  I  am  amazingly  punctual,  am  I  not  ?  Please 
don't  look  so  glum  about  it,  or  I  shall  think 
this  oppressive  heat  has  soured  you.  I  must 
say  I  never  felt  any  thing  to  equal  it  in  August. 
This  is  the  kind  of  weather  I  imagine  Sydney 
Smith  experienced  when  he  wished  he  could 
take  off  his  skin  and  sit  in  his  bones." 

"  I  wish  you  had  considered  my  very  proper 
annoyance, — such  an  infernally  hot  day,  sitting 
7 


146  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

here  fanning  for  an  hour.  I  asked  you  to  dine 
at  five,  and  now  it  is  after  six." 

"  Really,  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Mr.  Gordon 
apologetically  ;  "  but  it  was  unavoidable.  I 
started  in  time,  but  the  Fates  were  against  me, 
in  the  shape  of  a  fair  woman.  As  I  came  up 
the  avenue  I  met  that  charming  widow,  Mrs. 
Johnson,  and  she  prevailed  on  me  to  take  a 
short  drive.  Does  it  need  any  further  explana- 
tion? The  time  passed  without  reckoning." 

"  Oh  !  I  can  readily  excuse  you,"  said  Parish, 
looking  knowingly  at  his  friend,  "  if  any  wo- 
man was  in  the  case,  aware  as  I  am  of  your 
penchant  for  the  fair  sex.  Then  again,  Mrs. 
Johnson  is  one  in  a  thousand  for  making  a  fel- 
low forget  every  thing  but  her  fascinating  self. 
Have  some  claret,  it  will  cool  you  off." 

"  Thank  you,  yes.  But  I  do  not  call  the 
widow  particularly  handsome  ;  still  she  is  pretty, 
and  has  the  most  charming,  confiding  manner. 
I  was  intimate  with  her  before  we  had  driven 
ten  squares.  It  was  so  refreshing  this  hot  day  ; 
to  meet  a  woman  who  will  take  all  the  trouble 
of  entertaining  into  her  own  hands.  She  told 
me  all  her  petty  annoyances,  how  lonely  she 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  147 

was,  and  eulogized  the  merits  of  her  dear  de- 
parted. Do  you  think  she  could  find  a  substi- 
tute? By  the  bye,  she  seems  to  know  you 
pretty  well." 

"  Probably.  But  did  she  volunteer  any  infor- 
mation ?  " 

"  Not  any.  She  seemed  seeking  for  facts; 
perhaps  to  fill  in  a  census  report.  Her  inqui- 
ries were  sufficiently  minute.  At  last  I  ex- 
pected she  was  on  the  point  of  asking  how 
many  cigars  you  smoked,  when  she  astounded 
me  by  asking  if  you  were  engaged." 

"  And  you  answered  with  your  characteristic 
tact— 

"  That  I  knew  nothing  about  your  affaires 
de  cceur,  but  doubted  if  one  so  lovely  as  her- 
self could  have  a  rival  in  any  man's  heart." 

"  The  devil  you  did !  That  is  heaping  coals 
on  the  fire.  Had  you  kept  your  appointment 
you  could  have  given  her  the  information  she 
was  seeking.  I  am  engaged  to  Miss  Eckford." 

"  Parbleu  !  Parish,  are  you  joking  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Gordon,  looking  keenly  at  his  friend. 

"  Not  at  all.  It  is  an  uncomfortable  fact,'' 
answered  Parish,  sipping  his  claret  with  a 


148  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

slight  sneer  on  his  lip,  "  and  partly  the  cause 
of  my  requesting  this  interview  ;  and  quite  as 
unexpected  to  me  as  to  yourself.  You  know 
she  is  wealthy.  The  property  is  in  her  own 
name.  Her  mother  is  delicate,  and  her  uncle 
cannot  prevent  her  following  her  inclinations. 
So,  seeing  a  chance  of  getting  out  of  my  pres- 
ent embarrassment,  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
throw  romance  to  the  wind  and  make  a  suc- 
cessful business  transaction." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  congratulate  you.  But 
how  many  hearts  you  will  jeopardize !  What 
is  she  like  ?  " 

"  Not  particularly  pretty.  She  seems  clever 
without  being  intellectual ;  amiable,  not  in  an 
angelic  sense ;  high-strung,  without  showing 
the  vixen.  She  suits  me  about  as  well  as  any 
woman  I  ever  met.  Don't  smile  so  incredu- 
lously." 

"  You  do  put  it  in  an  odd  light  Has  the 
pretty  widow  any  thing  to  do  with  your  de- 
pression ?  " 

"  I  can  tell  you,  Gordon,  this  is  no  jesting 
matter ;  and  unless  I  look  sharp,  I  shall  lose 
my  game.  Tis  the  devil's  own  luck  that  put 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  149 

it  into  my  power  to  get  this  girl,  and  that  Bob 
Clark,  with  his  saintly  spite,  may  upset  it  all." 

"I  cannot  see  what  he  has  to  do  with  it," 
said  Gordon  seriously. 

"Just  this  much  : — he  is  in  love  with  my 
fiancee,  and  he  knows  of  a  little  flirtation  Mrs. 
Johnson  and  I  had  while  in  Europe.  He  is 
also  cognizant  of  some  of  these  infernal  affairs 
of  Gantly's,  and  is  trying  his  best  to  turn  the 
tide  against  me.  Unless  I  can  get  the  panacea 
to  all  society  prejudices — money — into  my  hands 
before  this  case  comes  on,  I  shall  be  beaten." 

"  I  declare  you  look  at  it  in  an  unpleasant 
light.  I  supposed  you  felt  confident  of  success 
against  Gantly.  You  have  not  given  me  the 
papers ;  but  I  judged  from  your  representation 
of  the  facts  it  was  almost  a  certainty.  What 
are  to  be  your  present  movements  ?  " 

"  Movements  ?  I  am  not  allowed  a  voice 
in  the  matter.  Horrors!  I  had  rather  be  in 
prison  than  pinioned  as  I  am.  I  have  not 
been  engaged  a  week  yet,  and  already  the 
mother  of  my  prize  thinks  it  best  to  go  gala- 
vanting  off  to  Saratoga  with  her  interesting 
daughter,  inasmuch  as  it  is  her  last  season  in 


150  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

society.  I  sincerely  trust  it  may  be  her  first 
and  last  in  mine  also.'' 

"  Don't  take  it  so  to  heart,  Parish.  True 
love  never  runs  smooth.  The  widow  will  come 
out  ahead  yet." 

"  Stuff!  What  do  I  care  for  love,  except  to 
pass  the  time  ?  "  said  Parish,  filling  his  glass 
again,  and  drinking  the  wine  off.  "  The  idea 
of  my  going  to  Saratoga,  of  all  places  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  Every  one  will  be  there, 
and  I  am  fearfully  short.  And  then,  if  some 
of  my  kind  friends  wished  to  break  up  my 
little  arrangement,  see  how  easily  they  could 
do  it.  I  propose  to  lie  around  in  the  country 
all  summer,  and  be  married  in  the  falL  You 
could  easily  delay  this  law  matter  from  month 
to  month  until  I  had  my  game  under  cover." 

"Really,  Parish,  this  is  an  ugly  business," 
said  Gordon  emphatically,  "  and  I  would  ad- 
vise you  not  to  place  yourself  in  such  a  false 
position.  The  whole  thing  will  sooner  or  later 
come  out,  and  it  wfll  lay  you  open  to  more 
serious  charges  of  dishonor." 

"  It  is  not  going  to  come  out,"  replied  Par- 
ish. "  I  am  going  to  let  it  have  its  course. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  15 1 

But  it's  frightfully  hot  here.  Take  another 
glass  of  wine,  and  we  will  go  out  and  have  a 
walk.  The  night  air  may  be  a  little  cooler. 
Have  you  any  other  engagement  ?  " 

"  No  ;  and  it  certainly  is  stifling  here.  We 
can  arrange  a  few  matters  as  we  stroll  up  the 
avenue.  When  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  To-morrow  ;  and  I'd  rather  be  hung." 

"  I  doubt  that.  We  will  be  surprised  some 
fine  morning  to  hear  that  you  have  run  off  with 
the  widow.  She  took  too  much  interest  in 
your  affairs  to  let  you  out  of  her  clutches  easily. 
I  give  you  a  week  before  she  joins  you." 

"  By  Jove !  If  she  does,  it  will  be  a  sorry 
day  for  her.  But  come  along.  I  suppose  when 
the  time  comes  I  must  face  the  music." 


1 52  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

"Wealth  is  the  Conjurer's  Devil, 
Whom,  when  he  thinks  he  hath,  the  Devil  hath  him" 

ARATOGA  was  overflowing  with  its 
summer  fullness.  The  streets  were 
rendered  almost  impassable  by  the  re- 
tinue of  broadcloth,  false  hair,  and  muslin  that 
thronged  them.  The  season  had  reached  its 
culminating  point  Everybody  complained  of 
the  heat,  crush,  and  discomfort,  Yet  still  rein- 
forcements came  pouring  in.  Legion  seemed 
their  name.  Every  nook  and  corner  in  the 
mammoth  hotel  seemed  filled.  The  piazzas 
were  thronged  with  dignified  matrons  and  calm 
old  gentlemen  fanning  themselves,  and  occa- 
sionally strolling  off  for  a  glass  of  spring  water, 
unconsciously  laboring  to  convince  themselves 
that  they  were  having  a  charming  recreation 
out  of  reach  of  the  stifling  heat  of  the  metropo- 
lis. Thus  poor  deluded  worshipers  at  the 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  153 

shrine  of  fashion,  will  reason  against  their  own 
common  sense,  that  three  weeks  spent  at  Sara- 
toga is  more  beneficial  than  a  summer  in  some 
cool  reteat  without  the  allurements  of  a  pro- 
miscuous society.  At  one  end  of  the  long 
piazza  of  the  United  States  Miss  Eckford  was 
earnestly  consulting  with  her  mother. 

"  I  am  so  tired  of  this  watering-place  life.  A 
little  quiet  would  be  a  relief.  Can  we  not  go 
back  to  our  dear  did  house,  and  spend  the  re- 
mainder of  the  summer  under  our  own  roof, 
dear  mother? " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,  if  it  will  add  to  your 
happiness.  Why  this  ennui  ?  You  ^have  al- 
ways been  so  fond  of  society,  and  I  am  sure 
you  seemed  to  enjoy  every  moment  of  the  ball 
last  evening." 

"  Very  true,  mamma  ;  but  since  my  engage- 
ment I  find  it  rather  tiresome  to  enter  into  the 
gossip  and  flirtation  of  gay  life.  Then,  again, 
Mr.  Parish  really  seems  tired  and  not  well.  I 
barely  suggested  a  return  last  evening,  and  he 
seemed  instantly  to  grasp  at  the  idea.  Now  if  it 
be  annoying  to  him  to  remain  here,  had  we  not 
better  return  ?  I  have  been  strangely  depressed 
7* 


154  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

lately,  do  you  know  ?  At  times  I  think  I  have 
some  one  else's  share  of  happiness  besides  my 
own ;  and  it  has-  filled  my  mind  with  the  idea 
that  some  trouble  must  be  in  store  for  me.  I 
have  had  such  a  bright  life  ;  not  even  a  shade 
of  anxiety." 

"  You  are  very  wrong  to  allow  such  thoughts, 
my  child,  and  the  sooner  you  dismiss  these 
fancies  the  better.  I  fear  that  you  are  not  well, 
and  perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  return  to  our 
home.  Your  time  will  be  fully  occupied  with 
your  trousseau  the  remainder  of  the  season." 

Miss  Eckford  here  cut  short  the  conversation 
by  eagerly  catching  a  lady  by  the  arm  as  she 
was  passing. 

"  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Johnson. 
When  did  you  come  ?  " 

"  Why,  Laura,  this  is  a  charming  surprise," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Johnson.  Then  turning  to  a 
young  man  in  the  crowd,  "  Mr.  Clark,  are  we 
not  lucky  ?  Here  are  all  the  Eckfords." 

"  How  refreshing  it  is  to  meet  some  one  that 
looks  as  deliciously  cool  as  you  do,  Miss  Eck- 
ford, during  this  intolerable  weather,"  said  Mr. 
Clark,  with  marked  admiration.  "  Had  I  been 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  155 

given  the  use  of  a  wishing  cap,  I  could  not  have 
desired  any  thing  more  pleasing  than  this  meet- 
ing. What  an  exquisite  bunch  of  roses  you  are 
favored  with ! " 

"Are  they  not  lovely?  I  am  so  extrava- 
gantly fond  of  flowers !  Mr.  Parish  humors  my 
taste  by  sending  me  just  such  a  bunch  every 
morning  before  we  breakfast.  This  is  the 
Glorie  Dijon,  I  need  hardly  tell  you.  Every 
.,  one  is  so  fond  of  that  matchless  rose." 

"  I  confess  that  I  know  nothing  about  the 
names  of  flowers.  'The  rose  by  any  other 
name  would  smell  as  sweet,' "  said  Mr.  Clark, 
with  decided  harshness.  "  Mr.  Parish  is  doubt- 
less familiar  with  all " 

Here  his  remark  was  cut  short  by  Mrs.  John- 
son. She  had  been  retailing  the  last  piece  of 
gossip  to  Mrs.  Eckford,  and  now,  turning  to 
Laura,  asked  why  her  fiance  was  not  on  duty. 

"  I  think  I  see  him  coming.  Let  me  attract 
his  attention.  How  are  you  this  morning, 
John.  I  have  such  a  pleasant  surprise  for  you. 
Mrs.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Clark  have  just  joined 
us." 

"  Any  thing  but  pleasant,  my  dear  Laura.    A 


156  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

decided  infliction  in  my  opinion,"  said  Parish, 
frowning  and  flushing  impatiently.  '•  If  there  be 
one  thing  distasteful  to  me  it  is  a  fast  woman." 
.  "  Do  you  really  think  Mrs.  Johnson  is  ?  " 

"  Is  beautiful  ?  Ah !  distractingly  so,  Miss 
Eckford,"  said  Clark,  joining  them.  "  Mr.  Par- 
ish thought  so  a  few  months  since.  But  how 
are  you,  Parish  ?  I  declare  you  look  played  out. 
And  no  wonder,  if  this  is  the  time  of  day  you 
breakfast.  It  is  going  on  to  twelve  o'clock." 

"  One  is  not  obliged  to  feed  the  moment  one 
gets  up,"  answered  Parish,  visibly  annoyed. 

"  Ah !  Then  I  suppose  you  rise  with  the  lark, 
take  a  constitutional,  drink  spring  water,  and, 
may  I  suggest,  brandy  and  soda  occasionally, 
all  before  breakfast." 

"Am  I  not  to  have  any  recognition,  Mr.  Par- 
ish ?"  asked  Mrs.  Johnson,  with  a  smile,  extend- 
ing her  delicately  gloved  hand,  and  opening  her 
large  blue  eyes  to  their  fullest  extent. 

"  I  beg  ten  thousand  pardons,  Mrs.  Johnson, 
but  the  fault  is  due  to  the  throng  here.  I  have 
been  making  my  way  as  fast  as  possible  to- 
ward the  center  of  attraction,  but  it  is  difficult 
to  approach." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  157 

"You  seem  not  to  have  lost  the  power  of 
flattery,  I  see,  Mr.  Parish.  I  hardly  think  you 
deserve,  forgiveness.  When  a  man  neglects  his 
old  friends,  as  you  have  done,  he  deserves  to  be 
punished.  I  cannot  even  allow  that  an  engage- 
ment is  an  excuse  for  every  such  act." 

"  You  do  not  look  upon  it  with  the  eyes  the 
world  does.  Unless  you  are  greatly  changed, 
however,  I  think  I  can  depend  upon  generous 
treatment  from  one  who  has  always  been  my 
beau  ideal  of  perfection,"  said  Parish,  exchang- 
ing a  look  of  tenderness,  which  seemed  to  be 
echoed  back  from  her  as  she  answered  : 

"Time  may  heal  the  wound,  but  at  present 
you  are  hopelessly  out  of  my  good  graces.  I 
cannot  endure  neglect,  and  I  purposely  avoid 
arguing  with  engaged  men.  They  are  of  all 
men  the  most  stupid." 

"  Mrs.  Johnson,  I  must  protest  against  tete-a- 
tetes.  Our  party  is  too  small,"  said  Miss  Eck- 
ford  ;  "  and  I  am  impatient  to  tell  you  all  that 
my  mother  has  consented  to  go  to  our  lovely 
home  for  the  remainder  of  the  summer." 

"  Oh  !  how  charming !  "  cried  Mrs.  Johnson. 
•"  It  is  a  perfect  relief  to  my  mind.  I  am  invited 


158  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

* 

to  visit  some  old  cousins  near  there,  and  I  was 
dreading  the  thoughts  of  being  obliged  to  spend 
two  weeks  in  such  a  deserted  place.  They  tell 
me  there  is  not  even  a  divinity  student  to  flirt 
with.  Only  imagine  poor  me  shut  up  with  those 
old  maids.  It  would  give  me  so  much  time  to 
think  over  my  sins  of  omission  and  commission 
that  I  should  more  than  likely  go  in  search  of 
my  first  love  and  try  to  heal  his  broken  heart." 

"  I  fear  it  would  carry  you  back  so  many 
years,  Mrs.  Johnson,  your  memory  would  fail 
you,  and  so  the  right  man  might  not  get  his 
reward,"  said  Mr.  Clark,  laughing. 

"  Your  gallantry  is  only  excusable  by  your 
years,  Mr.  Clark.  Have  you  not  a  place  in  that 
neighborhood, Mr.  Parish?"  asked  Mrs. Johnson. 

"  I  believe  I  am  not  so  fortunate,  Mrs.  John- 
son." 

"  That  is  a  good  joke,  Parish.  You  mean  you 
do  not  play  for  such  small  game.  How  soon 
will  you  take  possession  of  Gantly  Manor  ?  You 
have  fleeced  the  owner  out  of  every  thing  else." 

Parish  turned  quickly,  and  with  flashing  eyes 
confronted  Mr.  Clark.  "  How  dare  you  make 
such  an  accusation,  and  in  the  presence  of 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  159 

ladies?  It  but  more  fully  reveals  your  cow- 
ardly propensities." 

"  I  only  spoke  the  truth,"  returned  Clark, 
"  which  your  conscience,  if  you  have  any,  must 
echo  back;  and  consider  it  no  disrespect  to 
the  ladies  to  expose  a  man  who  will  by  delib- 
erate fraud  possess  himself  of  his  confidential 
friend's  property.  Such  an  one  has  forfeited 
every  characteristic  of  a  man  of  honor,  and  de- 
serves to  be  branded  for  what  he  is.  Think 
you  these  crimes  will  go  forever  unpunished  ? 
Can  you  suppose  there  will  be  no  retributive 
vengeance  ?  " 

"  You  shall  give  satisfaction  for  this,"  almost 
gasped  Parish,  gnashing  his  teeth.  "  Mrs.  Eck- 
ford,  allow  me  to  escort  yourself  and  daugh- 
ter to  the  drawing-room," 

Stepping  forward  to  offer  his  arm,  he  fell 
forward  to  the  ground.  Mr.  Clark  hesitated 
for  a  moment  with  a  scornful  smile  on  his  lip, 
waiting  for  Mr.  Parish  to  arise,  presuming  he 
had  made  a  false  step.  But  as  he  remained 
motionless,  he  stepped  to  his  side  and  immedi- 
ately exclaimed,  "  Help !  Water !  quick !  He 
has  fainted." 


160  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

In  an  instant  the  excitement  was  intense. 
Mrs.  Johnson,  in  the  most  tragical  manner, 
grasped  the  first  man  near  her,  declaring  her- 
self fainting  and  frightened  to  death,  while  in 
reality  she  was  congratulating  herself  on  the 
exquisite  attitude  she  had  thrown  herself  into. 
Laura,  greatly  alarmed,  leaned  over  her  fiance, 
and  endeavored  to  assist  in  restoring  him.  In 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  describe  it,  a  physi- 
cian was  at  his  side,  and  after  a  few  moments 
quietly  informed  Mr.  Clark  that  the  gentleman 
was  dead. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  l6l 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"When  tasks  of  life  thy  spirit  fill, 

Risen  from  thy  tears  and  dust, 
Then  be  the  self-renouncing  will 
The  seal  of  thy  calm  trust." 

LYRA  APOSTOLICA. 

WO  years  had  passed  since  the  tragic 
events  of  the  preceding  chapter  had 
astounded  and  shocked  the  fashionable 
world.  The  electric  message  that  carried  the 
announcement  to  Gantly  manor  was  like  a  mes- 
senger of  death  to  its  beloved  master.  Mr. 
Gantly  never  recovered  from  the  shock.  The 
duplicity  of  his  friend,  combined  with  the  loss 
of  property,  had  shattered  his  nervous  system. 
He  reproached  himself  constantly  for  trusting 
to  another  what  he  should  have  guarded  for  his 
wife  and  children.  His  death  did  not  come  on 
Edith  suddenly.  From  the  time  that  Parish's 
villainy  had  become  apparent,  she  had  seen  it 
was  an  inevitable  fate.  She  never  fastened 


1 62  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

any  hope  on  his  recovery ;  for  she  could  see 
him,  with  her  unselfish  watchfulness,  impercep- 
tibly passing  into  another  world.  Her  entire 
forgetfulness  of  self  gave  her  no  time  to  real- 
ize her  own  feelings.  Her  trials  seemed  to 
glorify  her.  She  always  wore  a  smile  when  in 
his  presence,  and  comforted  him  with  her  Chris- 
tian guidance.  When  can  we  say  death  is  not 
sudden,  even  death  the  most  lingering  ?  Those 
who  watch  the  fleeting  breath  are  ever  startled 
by  Azrael's  dark  countenance,  however  ex- 
pected he  may  be. 

Dr.  Cutler  was  Edith's  only  comfort.  She 
clung  to  him  as  her  last  earthly  stay.  And  had 
it  not  been  for  his  cheerful  support,  she  would 
have  prayed  to  pass  from  this  life  of  trouble  and 
sorrow.  The  sad  minutiae  of  the  funeral  de- 
tails, the  necessary  household  changes,  and  in- 
numerable orders  to  be  given  at  such  a  time, 
Edith  attended  to  with  minutest  accuracy,  al- 
though she  was  like  the  phantom  of  her  former 
self. 

Six  months  passed  wearily  on.  Edith  was 
occupied  with  the  care  of  her  children  and 
home.  She  knew  but  little  about  the  details  of 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  163 

business,  but  tried  to  give  orders  when  and 
where  required.  The  lawyers,  who  had  taken 
care  of  the  suit  against  Mr.  Parish's  estate, 
communicated  with  her  from  time  to  time,  but 
had  been  unable  to  make  any  satisfactory  ar- 
rangements with  the  opposing  side. 

"  Mamma,  here's  a  letter.  Dr.  Cutler 
brought  it  from  the  post.  He  is  playing  with 
Lena,  and  sent  me  in  to  tell  you  he  would  be 
in  presently,"  said  Henry,  kissing  his  mamma 
and  running  out  to  join  in  the  frolic  with  his 
old  friend. 

Edith  opened  her  letter  languidly.  She  did 
not  receive  many,  and  those  not  joyous  ones. 
As  she  followed  the  lines  down,  her  counten- 
ance visibly  changed  to  a  deadly  white.  Cover- 
ing her  face  with  her  hands,  she  buried  her 
head  in  the  sofa  pillow  and  sobbed  like  a  child. 
Dr.  Cutler  found  her,  a  few  moments  after,  in 
this  condition. 

"Why,  I  am  surprised  to  see  you  so  dis- 
tressed, my  dear  Mrs.  Gantly.  Have  I  been 
the  unconscious  bearer  of  sad  news  ?  " 

Edith  handed  him  the  crushed  letter,  which 
he  read. 


164  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  MRS.  GANTLY  : — Dear  Madam, — For  some 
months  we  have  been  endeavoring  to  get  your 
suit  against  Mr.  Parish's  heirs  in  proper  shape 
to  be  able  to  judge  what  would  be  the  result. 
We  have  at  last  found  he  has  deeds  for  all  the 
property,  and  that  he  has  mortgaged  the  same 
to  the  fullest  extent.  We  also  find  the  manor 
is  mortgaged  for  fully  its  value,  and  the  inter- 
est is  unpaid  since  Parish's  death.  It  will  be 
necessary  to  sell  the  place  to  meet  the  incum- 
brance.  We  advise  closing  the  Parish  suit,  as 
nothing  could  be  reclaimed,  and  it  is  only  in- 
volving you  more  and  more  every  day.  The 
party  holding  the  mortgage  has  threatened  to 
foreclose  it.  Write  us  your  wishes. 
"  Respectfully  yours, 

"BLiss  &  CLARK." 

"  This  is  very  sad  news,  and  I  sincerely  sym- 
pathize with  you.  But  you  must  not  allow  it  to 
distress  you  so,  for  it  will  unfit  you  to  meet 
the  emergency." 

"  I  cannot  bear  it,  Dr.  Cutler.  Why  doesn't 
God  let  me  die  ?  " 

"  You  are  sadly  unnerved,  my  child.    Where 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  165 

is  your  faith?  Are  you  rebelling  against  God 
Almighty  ?  Does  he  not  tell  you,  '  As  many  as 
I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten ! '  '  Whom  the 
Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth ! '  If  you  are  a  dis- 
ciple of  Christ,  you  must  take  up  your  cross 
daily  and  suffer  the  burden,  for  only  through 
much  tribulation  can  we  enter  the  kingdom  of 
God." 

"  It  is  not  God  I  rebel  against.  I  can  patient- 
ly bear  His  afflictions,"  exclaimed  Edith,  with 
the  most  heartrending  sob.  But  this  wicked, 
wicked  man !  To  have  killed  my  husband,  and 
now  to  beggar  my  children !  Oh  !  it  is  more 
than  I  can  bear." 

"  You  say  you  do  not  rebel  against  God, 
and  yet  you  cry  out  that  you  cannot  bear  your 
cross.  You  would  measure  the  amount  of  your 
affliction  only  by  surrendering  your  mind,  body, 
and  estate  to  the  sovereign  Disposer  of  all 
events.  Can  you  prove  your  humility  to  Him, 
and  in  the  deepest  sense  of  your  soul,  say, 
'Thy  will,  O  God,  be  done  with  me,  with 
mine  ? '  God's  mercy  is  incomprehensible.  He 
worketh  out  His  ways,  not  ours.  We  are  not 
to  pass  judgment  on  our  brothers'  souls,  but 


166  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

live  for  the  happiness  of  the  living.  '  Let  the 
dead  past  bury  its  dead.'  " 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  My  chance  of  useful- 
ness in  the  world  is  taken  from  me.  I  cannot 
give  help.  Even  my  own  children — how  can  I 
provide  for  them  ?  " 

"  Does  not  God  promise  that  every  fatherless 
soul  shall  be  under  His  protection?  Does  He 
not  give  his  angels  charge  concerning  us  ?  The 
world  may  forsake  us  ;  friends,  the  most  tried 
and  trusted,  desert  us.  Human  love  may  seem 
a  mockery  and  a  dream  ;  but  the  love  of  the 
blessed  angels  never  tires,  never  faints.  They 
guard  our  life  ;  they  brighten  our  joys  ;  share 
our  sorrows,  and  at  last  bear  us  through  the 
4  open  door '  into  the  presence  of  God,  '  from 
whom  all  holy  desires,  all  good  councils,  and  all 
just  works  do  proceed.'  But  you  must  guard 
against  the  angels  of  darkness,  who  are  con- 
tinually striving  against  your  angel  of  light." 

"  I  have  endeavored  to  do  my  duty,  and  re- 
member your  advice  and  consolation,  Doctor. 
But  at  each  step  I  take  toward  resignation  I 
am  met  by  a  fresh  burden  more  heavy  than  the 
last." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  l6/ 

"  And  you  look  back  on  those  that  are  past 
as  light  in  comparison.  And  so  it  will  continue 
to  the  faithful  unto  the  end.  We  are  suffering 
for  Christ's  sake.  He  is  our  '  Christus  Consola- 
tor/  and  we  must  rejoice  if  we  are  singled 
out  to  suffer  and  labor  for  Him.  We  may  be- 
come sympathizing  ministers  of  consolation  at 
our  very  doors.  You  will  find  opportunities 
enough  of  doing  good.  There  are  children  to 
be  brought  to  baptism  ;  the  sick  to  be  visited  ; 
ignorance  to  be  enlightened.  Seek  opportunities 
for  kind  words,  charitable  deeds,  pious  councils, 
soothing  sympathies,  and  fervent  prayers.  All 
these  may  be  accomplished  without  wealth, 
and  in  all  there  is  a  chance  for  work  and  self- 
denial.  By  being  brought  face  to  face  with  the 
more  heartrending  trials  of  our  fellow- workers, 
we  are  strengthened  for  our  own.  '  Thus  hath 
the  mystery  of  suffering  a  partial  solution  even 
here.  You  suffer  not  always  for  your  own  sins, 
not  always  as  a  chastisement  and  correction. 
But  you  suffer  with  Christ,  that  like  him  you 
may  be  able  to  succor  those  who  are  in  any 
trouble,  sorrow,  need,  sickness,  or  any  other 
adversity.' 


l68  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  '  For  sorrow,  like  that  darkest  hour. 

That  just  precedes  the  day, 
Is  only  sent  to  fit  our  hearts 
For  joy's  unclouded  ray  !  * " 

"Thank  you,  Dr.  Cutler.  You  have  really 
made  me  happy  again."  said  Edith,  a  sad  smile 
shining  through  her  tears.  "  I  did  wish  at  firs* 
to  die,  and  so  be  freed  from  my  load.  I  felt 
wicked  and  rebellious,  but  my  good  angel  has 
triumphed.  The  victory  is  won,  and  I  feel  a 
new  life  flowing  through  my  veins.  But  how 
can  I  keep  down  my  rebellious  spirit  ?  " 

"  By  fulfilling  the  duties  God  has  placed  in 
your  hands  ;  by  clinging  to  your  faith.  It  has 
been  beautifully  observed :  •  When  the  heart, 
which  has  been  away  on  a  journey,  suddenly, 
at  midnight  (i.  e.t  the  time  of  greatest  darkness 
and  distress)  returns  home  to  us  (that  is,  comes 
to  itself  and  feels  hunger),  and  we  have  nothing 
wherewith  to  satisfy  it,  God  requires  of  us  bold, 
importunate  faith.'  We  must  pray  unceasingly 
for  that  faith,  •  Our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven ; ' 
that  exquisite  brevity.  It  is  indeed  what  the 
Fathers  have  called  it,  a  '  Brevarium  Evangelii,' 
the  pearl  of  prayers.  You  remember,  in  the 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  169 

Pilgrim's  Progress,  when  Christian  was  in  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  was  so 
sorely  tried  with  the  mire  on  one  side,  the  ditch 
on  the  other,  and  the  flames  and  the  smoke  ; 
while  the  hideous  voice  made  him  imagine  that 
a  company  were  coming  to  meet  him,  he  put  up 
his  sword  and  betook  himself  another  weapon 
called  All-prayer.  Then  he  heard,  as  it  were,  a 
man  going  before  him,  saying,  '  Though  I  walk 
through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  I 
will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me.'  But  I 
hear  the  first  bell  for  evening  service.  Let  us 
call  the  children,  and  we  will  have  time  to  walk 
down.  While  you  put  on  your  bonnet  I  will 
tell  Matthew  to  come  for  you." 

8 


I/O  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

" Then,  breaking  into  tears, — 'Dear   God,"  she  cried,  'and 

must  we  see 

All  blissful  things  depart  from  us,  or  ere  we  go  to  Thee  ? ' " 

E.  B.  BROWNING. 

ES  ;  bear  it  I  must  and  will,"  ex- 
claimed Edith,  as  she  lifted  her  head 
from  her  arm,  where  she  had  been 
"  But  oh !  how  hard  it  is  to  forgive 
our  enemies  and  persecutors,  when  they  have 
taken  all  from  us,  left  our  homes  desolated,  and 
snatched  our  children's  inheritance  from  them. 
Can  I  bear  the  full  force  of  this  sorrow,  wel- 
come every  thing  that  is  in  store  for  me,  and, 
like  Sintram,  conquer  my  doom  ?  But  now, 
can  I  leave  my  home,  never  to  return? — the 
place  I  loved  so  dearly ;  my  husband's  pride  ; 
the  beautiful  home  he  brought  me  to.  Oh 
God  !  my  troubles  are  more  than  I  can  bear ; " 
and,  wringing  her  hands,  Edith  threw  herself 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  I/I 

down  upon  a  chair.  For  a  few  moments  de- 
spair seemed  to  overwhelm  her  ;  but  recovering 
herself  she  remembered  her  resolution  and  her 
children's  dependency;  and  her  guardian  angel 
pleaded  for  them.  "  My  noble  boy !  I  must 
be  brave  for  him.  Change  of  scene  will  be 
best  of  all." 

Ambition  for  her  children  fortunately  forced 
her  to  face  the  future.  That  very  night  she 
laid  her  plans  according  to  the  emergency  of 
the  case,  with  a  caution  and  foresight  worthy  of 
a  mature  head.  Not  only  had  she  now  to  bear 
but  to  act ;  and  before  the  late  hour  at  which 
she  fell  asleep,  the  first  step  in  her  line  of  ac- 
tion was  determined.  She  must  find  a  new 
home.  New  scenes  and  new  faces  would  en- 
able her  to  forget  the  past.  She  promised  Dr. 
Cutler  to  be  hopeful  and  trusting  in  God's  love 
and  support,  and  to  try  and  say  from  her  heart, 
"  Thy  will  be  done." 

That  evening  she  was  more  cheerful  than 
usual,  reading  and  amusing  the  children.  She 
was  not  the  "  Sunshine,"  of  Airsley,  whom  we 
first  knew.  She  was  bright  and  joyous  with 
her  little  ones,  but  there  was  a  serene  melan- 


172  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

choly  and  thoughtful  dreamy  look,  as  if  her 
thoughts  were  afar  off  at  times.  It  was  after 
Nora  had  taken  the  children,  and  she  stood 
alone  before  the  fire  in  the  large  luxurious  li- 
brary, where  she  had  passed  so  many  happy 
hours,  that  the  full  force  of  her  solitude  and  be- 
reavement came  upon  her.  How  different  the 
room  looked,  which  had  once  been  her  ideal  of 
cheerfulness !  The  organ  and  book-cases,  with 
the  heavy  carved  furniture,  and  dark  red  drap- 
ery of  the  deep  windows  seemed  to  absorb  the 
light  of  the  lamp,  and  send  out  ghosts  and 
phantoms  of  her  former  life. 

$*<; 
"  Gales  from  Heaven,  if  so  He  will, 

Sweeter  melodies  may  wake 
On  the  lonely  mountain  rill, 

Than  the  meeting  waters  make. 
Who  hath  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
May  be  left,  but  not  alone." 

So  murmured  Edith  as  she  fell  asleep. 

Morning  failed  to  bring  comfort.  Edith 
awoke  with  the  feeling  of  something  having 
happened,  or  being  about  to  happen.  It  is  im- 
possible to  define  closely  the  sensation  of  a  new 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  173 

life  opening  before  us,  and  the  old  one  being 
left  to  oblivion.  It  is  akin  to  that  kind  of  feel- 
ing one  has  on  the  morning  of  a  marriage  or 
funeral.  She  rose  with  a  weary  calmness  and  a 
shrinking  from  the  inevitable.  Her  task  was  a 
hard  one  ;  and  when  little  Lena  nestled  up  for 
her  morning  kiss,  she  could  scarcely  check  the 
tears.  But  childish  prattle  soon  dispelled  the 
cloud,  and  a  few  hours  later,  when  Dr.  Cutler 
called,  she,  with  the  most  perfect  calmness, 
placed  her  plans  before  him. 

"  But,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  old  Doctor 
perceptibly  agitated,  "this  is  a  superhuman 
task  you  have  taken  upon  yourself.  You  do 
not  fully  understand  the  difficulties." 

"  Indeed  I  do,  sir.  I  have  calculated  every 
thing,  pros  and  cons,  and  I  am  fully  deter- 
mined to  seek  a  home  among  strangers." 

"  But  why  among  strangers  ?  Here  we  all 
love  you  so  dearly." 

"  And  for  that  very  reason  I  must  go. 
Strangers  will  know  nothing  of  my  former  life, 
and  will  not  pity  me.  I  know  it  is  kind,  and 
sweet,  and  all  that,  but  your  kindness  would 
be  the  worst  thing  for  me  now.  My  only 


174  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

chance  is  to  be  courageous,  and  look  the  situa- 
tion bravely  in  the  face.  My  education  and 
musical  talent  I  can  now  turn  to  some  use." 

"  You  can  use  both  here.  You  know,  Edith, 
that  since  your  parents  died  I  have  had  a  fa- 
ther's interest  in  you,  and  can  help  you  with 
your  labors." 

"  Please  do  not  make  it  more  painful  than  it 
is.  There  is  no  other  way,  Doctor,  and  if  you 
want  to  help  me,  you  will  remove  all  obsta- 
cles to  my  going.  A  favorite  author  of  mine 
says :  '  Women  are  strange  creatures.  Men 
think  they  know  us,  but  they  never  do.  We 
are  different  from  them,  both  in  our  good  points 
and  in  our  bad.'  So  you  must  just  let  me  have 
my  own  way.  That  is  my  bad  point." 

"  I  cannot  see  the  advantage  of  this  plan. 
Perhaps  it  is  because  I  am  selfish  and  do  not 
want  to  lose  my  favorite  child  ;  for  such  you 
have  been  since  the  day  I  placed  the  sign  of 
your  entrance  into  Christ's  fold  upon  your  in- 
fant brow." 

"  I  will  not  be  lost  to  you,  Doctor ;  indeed 
no.  You  must  let  me  write  you  all  my  troubles 
and  pleasures ;  and  you  certainly  will  come 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  1/5 

and  visit  us  ;  and  perhaps  I  may  sometime 
come  home  and  see  you." 

"  But  where  are  you  going  ?  You  speak  as 
if  this  had  been  a  plan  perfected  for  months." 

"  It  matters  little  where  we  go.  I  prefer  a 
large  town,  where  Henry  can  have  advantages 
as  he  grows  older,  and  where  I  may  have  a 
larger  field  to  work  in.  I  intend  to  take  a  little 
French  proverb  for  my  motto  :  '  Aide-toi  et 
le  ciel  t'aidera.'  You  see  I  haven't  any  rich  old 
uncles  to  leave  me  bags  full  of  money  ;  and  I 
cannot  afford  to  wait  for  some  benevolent  old 
gentleman  to  take  a  fancy  to  me,  and  then  die 
and  leave  me  a  trunk  full  of  treasures,"  said 
Edith  smiling. 

"  You  are  a  brave  woman,  Mrs.  Gantly." 

The  last  day  was  quickly  passing.  Edith 
had  been  firm  in  her  resolve.  She  believed 
that  she  was  doing  right,  and  never  wavered. 
Dr.  Cutler  had  found  a  pleasant  house  for  her  in 
a  parish  where  he  knew  the  rector,  and  it  was 

not  a  great  distance  from  N ,  so  that  she 

could  be  in  quick  communication  with  him  in 
case  of  any  emergency.  The  last  few  hours 


176  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

were  the  most  trying.  Norah  and  the  children 
regretted  so  much  leaving  their  favorite  treas- 
ures, that  it  took  all  Edith's  energy  to  encour- 
age them.  Just  before  the  hour  for  starting 
she  stood  by  the  window,  looking  for  the  last 
time  upon  the  glorious  view;  that  particular 
spot  where  Mr.  Gantly  had  had  an  opening  cut 
in  the  trees,  so  that  she  could  have  the  full 
benefit  of  the  scene  without  leaving  the  house. 
Was  it  strange  that  her  heart  began  to  fail 
her,  and  that  she  whispered  to  herself,  "  It  is 
hard. "  She  looked  around  the  luxurious  room, 
so  handsome,  yet  so  homelike  ;  hers,  yet  passing 
from  her.  It  appeared  like  death  in  the  midst 
of  life.  She  might  be  entering  into  a  new 
sphere,  but  this  was  the  dear  old  familiar  one, 
and  it  was  leaving  her.  Years  after  Edith  told 
her  children  she  never  realized  how  she  bore 
that  hour.  It  seemed  to  have  been  like  a 
dream.  It  all  came  suddenly.  Many  have  re- 
corded such  departures  with  intense  vividness 
of  description,  relying  upon  the  powers  of  im- 
agination for  their  facts  ;  but  many  more  have 
actually  endured  similar  trials,  and  the  latter 
acknowledge  when  the  life  histories  are  repro- 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  177 

duced   how  utterly    imagination  fades   before 
reality.     "  Remember  in  these  life  tragedies  we 
do  not  see  behind  the  scenes.     Perhaps  when 
the  play  is  done  we  shall." 
8* 


178  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

"  The  coldness  from  my  heart  has  gone, 

But  still  the  weight  is  there  ; 
And  thoughts  which  I  abhor  will  come 
To  tempt  me  to  despair." 

SOUTHEY. 

HE  last  good-by  had  been  said.  Dr. 
Cutler  had  endeavored  in  various 
ways  to  get  up  a  little  mirth,  to  pass 
the  time  and  lessen  the  pain  of  parting,  which 
seemed  almost  too  much  for  him.  But  it  proved 
very  feeble,  and  Edith  seeing  the  pain  it  caused 
him,  suddenly  imagined  that  the  clocks  were 
slow,  and  called  to  Norah  to  hurry.  Every 
thing  was  in  confusion  in  a  moment.  Henry 
had  his  dog  to  look  to.  Lena  insisted  on  tak- 
ing her  favorite  kitten,  so  the  poor  creature  was 
squeezed  into  a  basket.  Norah  had  her  arms 
full  of  wraps  and  lunch-baskets,  topped  with  the 
bandbox  containing  her  best  bonnet ;  she  never 
could  trust  that  to  the  express.  Dr.  Cutler  gave 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  1/9 

Matthew  the  same  orders,  about  checking  the 
baggage,  over  at  least  a  dozen  times.  Poor 
weary  Edith  was  the  only  calm  one.  At  last 
the  carriage  door  was  closed  ;  a  warm  pressure 
of  the  hand  to  Edith ;  a  kiss  on  each  of  the 
children's  brows,  with  "  God  bless  you  all,"  and 
Dr.  Cutler  saw  them  whirled  away.  They  were 
out  of  sight  of  that  dear  home,  and  half  way 
down  the  winding  avenue  before  Edith  had  the 
children  and  wraps  all  properly  stowed ;  so  she 
had  not  a  chance  to  look  back.  But  as  they 
neared  the  village  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
cross  on  the  church  spire,  and  watched  intently 
until  it  was  hidden  from  view  as  they  neared 
the  station.  Once  or  twice  a  large  tear  slowly 
gathered,  but  she  checked  it  unnoticed.  At  the 
station  all  was  again  confusion.  Baggage  to 
check,  tickets  to  procure,  Norah  and  the  chil- 
dren to  get  safely  deposited  in  a  commodious 
compartment.  They  were  several  miles  en 
route  to  their  new  home  before  Edith  realized 
that  they  had  fairly  started.  During  the  ride 
children  and  nurse  got  very  tired.  Lena  fret- 
ted for  her  dolls  that  were  in  the  trunks.  Henry 
tried  to  be  very  manly,  and  declared  Norah  had 


l8O  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

a  "  grumpy  fit,"  and  that  she  and  Lena  were 
not  fit  to  travel.  Edith,  seeing  that  they  were 
all  over-excited  and  tired  out,  put  her  ingeni- 
ous brain  to  work,  and  with  Norah's  help  made 
a  hammock  by  stretching  a  heavy  traveling 
shawl  from  one  end  of  the  long  compartment  to 
the  other.  The  children  were  delighted.  Both 
got  in  with  Fido,  and  after  eating  all  the  oranges 
and  cake  their  thoughtful  mother  had  provided 
for  them,  tfiey  fell  into  a  quiet  sleep.  Norah 
contrived  a  pillow  in  one  corner  of  the  lounge, 
and  her  eyes  soon  closed  likewise.  There  was 
then  a  temporary  lull  in  Edith's  cares.  She 
could  sit  quietly  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
changing  landscape,  although  she  did  not  see  it. 
Her  thoughts  wandered  toward  that  unknown 
place  and  unknown  life  into  which  she  was 
sweeping.  She,  for  the  first  time,  began  to 
doubt.  Anxious  as  she  had  been  for  the  change, 
and  wise  as  the  proceeding  appeared,  yet  now, 
that  the  last  link  had  been  broken,  and  all  that 
was  familiar  left  behind,  that  peaceful,  precious 
home  appeared,  if  possible,  to  grow  more  dear. 
"  I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  go  back  again," 
thought  she.  Here  her  reverie  was  cut  short 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  l8l 

by  the  conductor  on  his  round  for  tickets  ; 
and  the  children  waking,  a  thousand  and  one 
questions  had  to  be  answered,  which  passed 
the  time  until  they  arrived  at  their  destination. 
How  many  of  us  have  felt  that  strange  sensa- 
tion of  intense  solitude  on  arriving  in  a  strange 
place.  We  know  not  which  way  to  turn.  The 
passers-by  are  all  anxiously  absorbed  with  them- 
selves, their  own  affairs,  their  baggage.  Of  all 
places  where  human  nature  shows  itself  to 
greatest  disadvantage,  the  railroad  station  is 
the  worst.  Edith  had  prepared  herself  to  fight 
as  well  as  endure,  and  had  her  plans  thoroughly 
formed.  They  entered  their  new  home  with- 
out any  unnecessary  delay.  An  old  servant  of 
the  former  occupant  had  remained  and  pre- 
pared things  for  their  reception  ;  but  the  con- 
trast between  the  luxurious  mansion  they  had 
left,  and  the  house  they  now  entered,  was  very 
marked.  They  were  shown  into  a  nice,  large, 
square  room,  but  the  scant  furniture,  placed  in 
stiff  regularity  against  the  wall  j  the  black  stone 
fireplace  reflecting  the  fading  twilight,  gave  all 
a  ghastly  appearance.  Edith  had  a  few  pleasant 
words  for  the  rather  prim  serving- woman,  and 


1 82  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

desired  her  to  get  a  cup  ot  tea  made  as  soon 
as  possible,  as  they  were  all  very  tired,  and  the 
children  must  go  to  bed. 

Lena  had  been  listening  with  open  mouth 
and  eyes  to  her  mamma's  orders,  and  as  soon 
as  she  finished  rushed  into  her  arms  crying : 

"Oh!  mamma,  mamma!  Let  us  go  home. 
This  is  not  a  pretty  home.  I  don't  want  to 
stay  here." 

As  the  child  nestled  into  her  mother's  arms 
one  great  sob  burst  from  Edith — just  one  pas- 
sionate, pent-up  sob.  Then  she  kissed  her 
child,  and  laughing  a  forced  hollow  laugh,  said, 
"Is  this  my  little  lady  that  is  going  to  keep 
house  for  mamma  ?  " 

"Very  nice  housekeeper  you  will  make, 
Lena,"  said  Henry  very  opportunely,  "  if  you 
starve  us  as  you  are  doing  the  cat." 

This  roused  Lena,  and  she  forgot  her  grief 
in  attending  to  the  wants  of  her  cat.  As  soon 
as  it  could  be  conveniently  accomplished,  all 
were  glad  to  seek  their  rest.  Long  after  sleep 
had  visited  the  weary  eyelids  of  her  children, 
yes,  even  until  dawn  had  melted  into  perfect 
daylight,  -did  Edith  lie  open-eyed,  listening  to 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  1 8$ 

every  sound.  The  strange  rumbling  of  the 
town  made  her  restless,  and  for  the  hundredth 
time  she  thought  over  the  many  difficulties  that 
lay  before  her.  She  was  indeed  brave,  though 
almost  a  girl.  A  sense  of  determined  persever- 
ance, of  fighting  it  out  to  the  end,  was  strong 
within  her.  Like  Christian,  she  met  and  looked 
in  the  face  every  wild  beast  in  the  way,  closing 
her  ears  to  the  tempting  spirits  ;  and  fearlessly 
looked  ahead,  keeping  the  middle  of  the  path. 
"  No,"  said  she  ;  "  I  don't  think  I  am  afraid. 
I  shall  never  be  afraid  of  any  thing  in  this  world 
as  long  as  I  have  the  consolation  of  my  church. 
Then  came  a  new  train  of  thought;  she  tried 
to  imagine  what  the  church  and  rector  would 
be  like.  He,  of  course,  could  not  be  as  perfect 
as  Dr.  Cutler.  But  then,  if  he  were  only  a 
little  like  him,  it  would  be  some  comfort. 
With  that  the  past  suddenly  rose  before  her. 
Burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  she  tried  to 
force  the  vision  back  ;  but  with  every  struggle 
the  sense  of  her  utter  loneliness  would  steal 
upon  her  with  more  force  than  ever.  A  long- 
ing came  to  her  for  a  hand  to  cling  to  ;  for  a 
breast  to  lean  against,  under  which  beats  a 


184  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

heart  at  once  strong  and  tender.  Such  a  wish 
even  the  bravest  woman  feels  sometimes,  and 
most  piteously  needs.  A  heart  that  can  com- 
fort and  uphold  ;  not  with  the  strength  of  an- 
other woman  like  herself,  but  with  the  power  of 
a  man,  encouraging  her  to  overcome  weak- 
ness and  fight  out  the  sore  battle  of  life  a  little 
longer.  Alas !  the  night  seemed  to  lend  its 
shadow  to  the  dullness  of  the  picture  ;  for  there 
appeared  to  be  nothing  in  the  future  for  poor 
Edith  but  disappointment,  loneliness,  and  trials. 
At  length,  exhausted  by  these  conflicting  emo- 
tions, rest  came  to  that  weary  and  sorely-tried 
brain,  and  dreamless  sleep  relieved  the  misery 
of  that  first  night  in  her  new  home. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  18$ 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

"  So  the  dreams  depart ; 

So  the  fading  phantoms  flee  ; 
And  the  sharp  reality 
Now  must  act  its  part." 

WESTWOOD'S  Beads  from  a  Rosary. 

HE  sun  was  well  up  before  Edith 
awoke  from  heavy  slumber,  oppressed 
with  the  feeling  of  being  borne  down 
by  an  irresistible  weight  of  trouble.  It  was 
some  moments  before  she  could  collect  her  be- 
wildered ideas.  The  strangely  unfamiliar 
room  ;  its  four  blank  white  walls  ;  the  cheer- 
lessness  of  the  uncurtained  windows ;  the  dis- 
mantled look  of  the  toilet-table,  every  thing 
was  so  odd  and  cold  that  Edith  was  convinc- 
ing herself  she  was  dreaming,  until  reality  was 
established  by  Lena  kissing  her  and  begging  to 
have  the  trunks  opened,  so  that  she  could  get 
her  dolls,  and  introduce  them  to  her  new  house. 
There  was  too  much  worldly  life  in  that  appeal 


1 86  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

to  allow  of  further  inactivity.  There  stood  the 
trunks  and  valises  to  be  unpacked,  and  Norah 
was  bustling  to  and  fro  in  the  next  room,  find- 
ing fault  with  every  thing  she  touched.  The 
poor  old  nurse  was  in  great  distress,  wonder- 
ing how  she  could  ever  have  any  order  in  such 
a  cramped-up  place.  It  was  necessary  for  Edith 
to  be  up  and  superintending  with  her  calm  deci- 
sion and  encouraging  smile.  This  necessity  for 
action  was  the  kindest  boon  that  could  have 
been  granted  her.  She  dressed  as  quickly  as 
she  could,  laughing  with  Lena  at  the  numerous 
mishaps  which  occurred  ;  for,  as  usual  at  such 
times,  every  article  she  required  was  in  the 
wrong  place.  By  the  time  her  toilet  was  fin- 
ished, the  room  had  quite  a  homelike  appear- 
ance, inasmuch  as  she  had,  meanwhile,  taken 
the  different  pretty  knick-knacks  out  of  the 
trunks,  and  placed  them  on  the  mantel  and 
dressing-tables.  Henry  had  arranged  some 
flowers  that  they  had  brought  from  home  ;  and 
Lena,  conveying  her  papa's  and  mamma's  pic- 
tures from  the  depths  of  the  trunk,  now  placed 
them  on  either  side  of  the  vase  that  held  the 
flowers.  Then  clapping  her  hands,  she  ex- 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  187 

claimed,    "O  mamma!  now   it  begins  to  look 
like  home." 

Edith  drew  up  the  shade  and  looked  out 
upon  the  street.  It  did  not  present  a  very  at- 
tractive appearance,  and  as  she  felt  her  heart 
swelling  again,  she  turned  to  the  table  and 
took  up  one  of  her  volumes  of  litanies  and  de- 
votions, and  read,  "  Whosoever  will  be  my 
disciple  must  take  his  cross,  take  it  daily,  and 
so  with  that  burden  of  suffering  follow  me." 
"  The  cup  which  my  Father  hath  given  me, 
shall  I  not  drink  it  ?  "  "  This  medicine  for  my 
soul,  shall  I  not  take  it  and  be  healed  ?  "  "We 
are  put  into  the  furnace  like  precious  metal,  that 
we  may  be  refined,  and  so  be  set  hereafter  as 
jewels  in  the  crown  of  Christ.  Therefore,  in 
all  hours  of  darkness,  let  us  wait  patiently  for 
the  morn.  For  as  truly  as  He  who  suffered  on 
earth  now  reigns  and  triumphs  in  heaven,  so 
truly  shall  there  be  for  you  who  mourn  a  day 
of  gladness,  peace,  and  victory."  This  food  for 
her  soul  gave  her  the  courage  to  meet  the  dif- 
ficulties which  would  naturally  arise  on  the  first 
day  in  an  unknown  home.  Taking  Lena  by 
the  hand,  she  descended  to  the  breakfast-room, 


1 88  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

where  Henry,  who  awaited  them,  had  been  oc- 
cupied in  unpacking  many  things  and  arrang- 
ing them  in  as  homelike  a  way  as  possible.  He 
had  made  the  room  look  decidedly  inviting. 

Henry's  boyish  efforts  to  mitigate  the  annoy- 
ances which  were  occasioning  so  much  discom- 
fort took  Edith  by  surprise.  She  saw  that  the 
child  was  trying  to  lighten  her  load,  while  she 
was  dwelling  too  much  upon  the  past,  and  fail- 
ing to  look  forward  to  the  future  with  hope — 
the  future  of  those  young  lives  which  God  had 
intrusted  to  her  care  as  his  most  sacred  gift. 
And  then  the  thought  came  o'er  her,  that  now, 
in  very  truth,  a  new  life  was  opening  before  her, 
one  of  probable  struggles  and  trials,  in  which 
there  would  doubtless  be  but  little  repetition  of 
the  pleasures  of  her  past  life  of  comfort.  And 
this  led  to  the  reflection  that  the  rugged  decliv- 
ities and  the  storms  and  tempests  of  bitter  ex- 
perience give  tone  and  character  to  life,  and 
that  early  adversity  is  often  a  blessing  in  dis- 
guise. It  was  a  consolation  to  her  to  recall  the 
remark,  said  to  have  been  made  concerning 
Bias,  the  wise  Greek,  that  he  himself  was  the 
treasure  that  a  whole  life  had  gathered,  and 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  189 

that  he  represented  the  wealth  of  being  that  a 
thousand  struggles  had  contributed  to  form. 

And  then  came  Henry's  voice.  "  Mamma, 
there  is  a  splendid  stream  the  other  side  of  the 
road.  I  can  see  it  from  the  gate.  I  have  been 
in  ever  such  a  hurry  getting  these  things  un- 
packed, so  you  could  go  with  me  after  break- 
fast and  see  if  there  are  any  fish  in  it.  Can  we 
go?" 

"  But,  my  boy,"  answered  Edith,  more  cheer- 
fully than  she  had  spoken  for  some  days,  "we 
must  first  make  acquaintance  with  our  new 
home.  I  hardly  know  what  it  is  like  yet. 
Where  is  Norah  ?  Come,  we  must  go  and  help 
her.  This  is  new  work  for  your  old  nurse,  and 
I  fear  she  may  feel  homesick." 

"  I  think  she  must  be  homesick  already,  for 
she  has  been  scolding  away  for  half  an  hour, 
and  says  the  cook  doesn't  know  how  to  serve 
a  dish  for  a  lady's  table.  Just  come  and  see 
the  fun,  mamma.  I  knowr  the  way,  I  found  out 
the  kitchen  the  first  thing.  Fido  was  hungry, 
so  I  helped  him  eat  some  breakfast." 

They  had  reached  the  kitchen  by  the  time 
Henry  had  finished  his  prattle.  There  they 


190  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

found  Norah,  a  picture  of  despair,  trying  to 
make  the  cook  understand  how  to  make  an 
omelet,  such  as  she  had  been  accustomed  to  see 
in  her  mistress's  house. 

"  Never  mind,  Norah,"  said  Edith,  "any  thing 
will  do  to-day — a  boiled  egg  and  some  nice 
bread,  or  toast,  will  be  all  we  shall  require.  The 
cook  can  easily  prepare  that,  so  you  come  with 
us  ;  we  want  to  look  around  the  house  and  ar- 
range where  to  put  things.  We  want  to  be  at 
home  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  At  home ! "  murmured  the  old  woman, 
wiping  the  moisture  from  her  eyes,  "never! 
never !  until  we  go  to  the  real  home." 

The  excursion  through  the  various  nooks 
and  corners  of  the  house,  and  the  planning  for  a 
more  comfortable  arrangement  of  the  furniture, 
proved  a  wise  move  on  Edith's  part.  The 
good  effects  were  seen  in  the  interest  which 
was  aroused  in  all  as  to  their  immediate  sur- 
roundings, and  soon  mental  and  physical  occu- 
pation supervened — the  very  best  cure  for 
home-sickness. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  191 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

"Our  greatest  glory  is  not  in  never  falling,  but  in  rising 

every  time  we  fall." — CONFUCIUS. 

"  But  Christes  love,  and  his  apostles  twelve  ; 
He  taught,  but  first  he  folwed  it  himselfe." 

CHAUCER. 


ONTHS  slipped  by.  Edith  endeav- 
ored to  keep  house  as  economically  as 
possible  upon  the  little  ready  money 
she  possessed.  As  yet  she  had  been  unable  to 
procure  any  pupils,  and  nothing  but  her  own 
daring,  and  the  strong  well-spring  of  hope  that 
was  in  her  young  healthy  heart,  could  have 
sustained  her  in  what,  ten  years  after,  would 
have  appeared  to  her  as  a  certain  downright 
madness.  The  hundred  labors  she  went 
through,  weariness  of  body  and  travail  of  soul, 
their  mere  record  could  never  bear  sufficient 
witness  to  them.  God  had  given  her  not  only 
great  strength,  but  great  elasticity  of  tempera- 


192  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

ment ;  and  hence  she  never  lingered  long 
under  the  fringe  of  a  cloud.  She  cared  not  for 
the  comforts  and  luxuries  she  had  lost,  but  the 
pain  was  in  bringing  up  her  children  in  a  con- 
dition all  but  penurious,  and  deprived  of  so 
many  advantages  which  she  as  a  girl  had  en- 
joyed. She  knew  of  the  unconscious  influence 
of  outward  things,  which  affects  children,  even 
at  an  early  age,  far  more  than  is  suspected. 
She  saw  all  this,  knew  all  they  lacked,  and 
would  have  given  any  thing  to  have  provided  a 
remedy.  Yes,  she  was  bound  hand  and  foot 
with  the  iron  bands  of  almost  poverty.  Able 
to  do  nothing  for  them  but  love  them,  she  did 
that,  and  God  only  knows  how  a  mother's  heart 
goes  out  to  her  children  with  a  perfect  torrent 
of  passionate  devotedness.  How  can  that  love 
be  more  beautifully  expressed  than  by  these 
two  short  lines  : — 

"  A  mother  is  a  mother  still, 
The  holiest  thing  alive." 

Look  tenderly,  dear  reader,  on  this  picture 
of  struggles.  To  some  they  may  appear  small. 
Nevertheless  they  are  terribly  true.  Thousands 
of  women,  well  born,  well  reared,  know  of  such 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  193 

a  phase  in  life,  and  happy  are  they  if  it  ended 
in  youth,  while  mind  and  body  still  had  enough 
vitality  and  elasticity  to  endure.  Happier  still 
if  they  feel  these  trials  to  be  utterly  unaccounted 
for  except  by  a  belief  in  an  inscrutable  provi- 
dence, "  that  shapes  our  ends,  rough  hew  them 
how  we  may." 

It  was  difficult  for  Edith  to  keep  cheerful  as 
Christmas  drew  near.  The  children  were  anxi- 
ous to  make  the  usual  preparations,  and  she 
found  it  very  hard  to  refuse  them  any  amuse- 
ment her  slender  purse  could  provide ;  but  as 
Dr.  Cutler  came  before  the  holidays  were  ended, 
every  thing  finally  wore  a  brighter  appearance. 

"  How  much  Henry  has  improved !  He  will 
be  of  great  assistance  to  you  by  and  by,"  re- 
marked Dr.  Cutler,  as  he  and  Edith  watched 
the  children  playing  in  the  snow. 

"  He  promises  to  be  fond  of  study ;  but  I 
hardly  know  how  I  shall  be  able  to  stand  his 
educational  expenses.  My  plans  do  not  meet 
with  entire  success." 

"  Yet  I  have  always  found  that  intense  desire 
transforms  possibilities  into  certainties,  and  our 
wishes  are  but  prophecies  of  the  things  we  are 
9 


I94 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


capable  of  doing,  that  is,  if  we  are  faithful  to 
ourselves." 

"  I  have  been  wondering  lately  if  I  could  not 
turn  my  talent  for  painting  to  some  advantage. 
There  is  a  very  pretty  art  store  in  the  town. 
They  might  sell  my  sketches  for  me  ;  and  in 
that  way  I  could  attain  a  little  ready  money  to 
help  our  daily  expenses ;  and  so  when  the 
children  are  older  they  could  have  the  advan- 
tages they  require." 

"  Most  assuredly  you  could.  Have  you  made 
any  inquiries  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  have  been  so  unhappy  lately.  You 
know  I  was  promised  music  pupils  several 
times  ;  but  they  have  put  me  off  from  time  to 
time  with  excuses,  until  I  have  become  per- 
fectly disheartened.  It  seems  as  if  every  thing 
that  I  undertake  goes  to  the  wall.  You  see  I 
have  but  little  confidence  in  my  own  ability  ;  for 
you  always  watched  and  guided  me  like  a  lesser 
providence,  so  that  I  was  never  conscious  of  my 
dependence  until  I  had  to  depend  on  myself." 

"  You  have  traveled  through  the  White 
Mountains,"  said  Dr.  Cutler,  "  and  must  have 
noticed  how  the  road  seems  frequently  to  be 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  195 

shut  in  by  frowning  precipices,  to  all  appear- 
ances rendering  further  progress  impossible. 
But  as  you  neared  the  obstacles  you  found  the 
path  running  gracefully  and  safely  through  the 
gorge.  So  it  is  with  the  fearful  obstructions 
that  bid  defiance  to  our  progress  in  life.  They 
are  generally  only  apparent  difficulties,  and  will 
vanish  as  soon  as  we  confront  them.  Let  noth- 
ing discourage  you  ;  and,  depend  upon  it,  no 
matter  how  hard  it  may  seem,  the  Good  Shep- 
herd is  giving  you  what  is  best.  The  higher 
things  are  not  gained  by  success  in  this  world." 

"  But  if  I  should  offer  my  pictures  and  they 
were  refused,  I  should  be  so  discouraged ' 

"That  you  would  come  home  and  more 
earnestly  set  to  work,"  said  her  pastor.  "  It  will 
be  the  road  to  your  success.  Life  is  too  short 
for  us  to  waste  its  moments  in  deploring  bad 
luck.  We  must  pursue  success,  since  it  will  not 
come  to  us.  This  chance  of  work  has  been  put 
in  your  way,  and  I  see  in  it  a  means  of  future 
happiness.  If  it  do  not  succeed,  it  will  at  least 
drive  off  this  ennui,  which  is  creeping  over 
you,  and  which  is  a  most  dangerous  enemy,  if 
it  once  gets  hold.  Bring  me  some  of  your 


i96 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH, 


sketches.  I  remember  watching  your  efforts 
(and  very  rough  they  were),  when  you  were  no 
older  than  little  Lena." 

"  I  think  you  will  pass  the  same  judgment  on 
them  now,"  said  Edith  smiling,  as  she  turned 
over  some  drawings  on  the  table. 

"  Ah !  let  me  see,"  he  said,  selecting  one, 
while  his  countenance  showed  evident  tokens 
of  surprise  and  gratification.  It  was  an  accu- 
rate picture  of  the  interior  of  his  church. 

"  Yes,"  sighed  Edith.  "  All  my  sweetest 
thoughts  are  connected  with  that  hallowed  spot ; 
and  could  I  have  the  comfort  of  my  church 
here,  it  would  make  life  so  much  easier." 

"  But  you  surely  have  your  church.  It  is 
not  closed,  is  it  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  it  is  not  like  ours  at  home.  In  the 
first  place  there  is  no  life  about  it.  Dr.  Lewis 
is  one  who  takes  little  thought  outside  of  his 
study.  He  leaves  it  to  the  congregation  to  do 
the  work,  and  consequently  there  is  no  real 
work  done." 

"  Why,  I  am  greatly  surprised ;  I  always 
considered  him  a  good  worker.  I  know  he  is 
clever." 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  197 

"  As  to  that,  I  think  that  you  are  right.  He 
is  clever ;  but  a  clever  man  is  not  necessarily  a 
wise  one,  and  you  will  see  for  yourself  what  a 
state  the  church  is  in  here.  Every  thing  is 
conducted  in  a  very  careless  manner.  There  is 
a  great  want  of  reverence  in  the  congregation. 
It  really  shocked  me  at  first.  Then  the  church 
is  never  open,  except  Sundays.  I  asked  one 
of  the  ladies,  a  Mrs.  Green,  if  they  did  not  have 
evening  prayer  every  day,  and  she  looked  per- 
fectly amazed,  and  said  they  '  were  not  Pusey- 
ites.'  I  answered  that,  '  going  to  church  daily 
did  not  necessarily  constitute  Puseyism,  and  I 
considered  it  necessary  to  have  the  church  al- 
ways open,  accessible  to  any  one  who  wished  to 
take  advantage  of  silent  prayer.  In  order  that 
a  Church  should  prosper,  its  services  should  be 
conducted  as  nearly  as  possible  in  accordance 
with  a  liberal  interpretation  of  the  rubrics  of  the 
Anglican  Church.'  That  made  her  perfectly 
savage.  She  was  not  well  enough  acquainted 
with  me  to  say  what  she  thought,  but  has  since 
shown  her  antipathy  in  every  imaginable  way." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  acted  wisely ;  not  but 
that  your  principles  are  right ;  but,  being  a 


198  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

stranger,  it  would  have  been  best  to  keep  your 
views  to  yourself  until  such  times  as  you  could 
use  them  to  advantage." 

"  But  you  can  hardly  appreciate  the  condition 
of  the  parish,  Doctor ;  and  all  caused  by  the 
narrow-mindedness  of  the  people.  They  asked 
me  to  take  a  class  in  what  they  called  a  Sun- 
day-school ;  so  I  went,  and  found  they  had  no 
proper  room,  but  held  the  school  in  the  church. 
The  children  laughed  and  talked,  and  seemed 
to  have  no  regard  for  the  sanctity  of  the  place. 
Mrs.  Green  was,  to  all  appearances,  the  head, 
and  I  again  got  in  her  black  book  by  asking  .if 
we  could  not  get  a  room  to  hold  the  school  in. 
She  said  it  had  always  been  conducted  there, 
and  she  saw  no  reason  for  any  change.  One  of 
the  younger  teachers  was  in  favor  of  my  plan, 
but  it  has  only  caused  hard  feeling,  and  I  do 
not  see  a  chance  of  success.  The  parish  is  in 
a  lamentable  condition." 

"  And  do  you  think  you  are  bettering  it  by 
getting  into  discussions  with  the  supporters  ?  I 
fear  you  are  sapping  what  little  strength  it  has. 
If  you  wish  to  open  the  eyes  of  these  people, 
make  friends  with  them,  and  then  they  will  lis- 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  199 

ten  to  your  suggestions.  Do  not  push  your 
views  forward.  It  will  appear  like  seeking  no- 
toriety. And  above  all  things  never  assume  the 
air  of  championship,  but  that  of  retiring  mod- 
esty. Do  your  best,  without  thinking  of  bril- 
liant success.  God  helps  those  who  do  so  work." 

"  I  am  sure,  Doctor,  I  meant  all  for  the  best; 
but  it  makes  me  almost  disheartened  to  see 
those  children  being  brought  up  in  the  way 
they  are  ;  really  nothing  done  for  their  im- 
provement. I  am  perfectly  powerless  ;  but  if  I 
had  means  I  would  build  a  Sunday-school  room 
for  them." 

"  Ah  !  I  am  afraid  you  are  too  impatient,  and 
anxious  for  immediate  results.  This  trial  will 
train  you  for  better  efforts.  Let  me  read  you 
a  few  lines,"  and  the  Doctor  took  up  a  Bible 
and  read  these  words  :  "  Know  ye  not  that 
they  who  run  in  a  race  run  all,  but  one  re- 
ceiveth  the  prize.  So  run  that  ye  may  obtain. 
And  every  man  that  striveth  for  the  mastery  is 
temperate  in  all  things.  Now  they  do  it  to 
obtain  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we  an  incor- 
ruptible.' Be  steadfast  in  your  faith ;  watch 
over  your  heart,  and  believe  steadfastly  in 


2OO  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

%- 

things  that  are  invisible  ;  for  the  lusts  of  this 
world  are  deceitful  above  all  things." 

"  I  experience  this  constantly  ;  and  I  knew 
how  wicked  it  was  to  feel  as  I  did  toward  Mrs. 
Green.  But  there  was  no  one  to  whom  I  could 
go  in  my  trouble  ;  so  I  thought  it  best  to  leave 
things  as  they  were,  for  my  small  influence 
would  be  of  no  avail." 

"  When  you  were  a  child  do  you  not  re- 
member dropping  stones  in  a  pond.  The 
watery  circles  thus  described  increased  and 
widened  ring  beyond  ring,  till  they  reached  the 
utmost  limits  the  banks  would  allow.  So  it  is 
with  an  energetic  nature,  bent  on  doing  good. 
It  will  find  its  range  of  benevolence  extending 
day  by  day,  and  by  persevering  it  will  comprise 
a  thousand  new  objects  of  which  it  had  hitherto 
taken  no  thought.  Let  there  be  thorough  con- 
sistency in  all  your  undertakings,  and  by  de- 
grees these  very  people  who  would  now  op- 
pose you  will  long  for  what  they  call  innova- 
tions. Your  labor  must  be  like  the  sun's  rays, 
given  out  freely  and  expecting  no  return.  The 
first  step  you  must  take  in  your  attempt  to 
carry  Christ's  doctrines  into  practice,  is  to  fight 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  2OI 

a  decisive  battle  with  your  own  selfishness. 
We  all  must  begin  where  Christ  began, — at  the 
cross.  From  that  eminence  of  suffering  love, 
he  taught  that  self-denial  was  indispensable  to 
a  holy  life." 

"  Surely,  Doctor,  I  am  willing  to  deny  my- 
self every  thing.  How  do  you  mean  that  I  am 
selfish  ?  " 

"  You  will  find  in  Christ's  '  sermon  on  the 
mount,'  that  he  lays  down  the  cardinal  doctrine 
of  his  kingdom  as  complete  unselfishness  ;  and 
assures  all  those  who  try  to  learn  that  doctrine 
that  they  may  look  to  God  for  every  help  they 
can  ever  require.  The  term  unselfishness  em- 
braces the  mortifying  of  all  bad,  personal  in- 
stincts, such  as  pride,  self-satisfaction,  jealousy, 
or  any  feeling  that  may  tend  to  self-defense. 
Our  whole  nature  must  be  love,  and  love  is 
God.  If  you  wish  to  be  like  God,  Christ  sug- 
gests one  motive, — the  reproduction  of  the 
nature  of  God.  '  Be  ye  therefore  perfect,  even 
as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect.'  '  Love 
your  enemies  ;  bless  them  that  curse  you ;  do 
good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them 
which  despitefully  use  you  and  persecute  you. 


2O2  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  Then  I  fear  I  have  a  hard  task  before  me. 
I  am  not  good  enough  to  quietly  endure  Mrs. 
Green's  opposition." 

"You  must  not  begin  by  putting  forth  views 
for  opposition.  Keep  Christ's  life  constantly 
before  you.  He  did  not  begin  by  abusing  his 
failing  disciples.  He  told  them  what  high 
things  were  expected  of  them.  He  encouraged 
them  by  telling  them  they  were  really  great ; 
that  they  were  the  salt  of  the  earth  and  the 
light  of  the  world  ;  yet  reminded  them  that 
a  candle  might  be  put  under  a  bushel.  Do 
you  see  the  difference  between  the  essential 
and  the  accidental.  You  must  first  encourage 
those  whom  you  wish  to  influence,  after  that 
they  will  be  directed." 

"It  was  so  little  trouble  to  follow  one's  duty 
while  under  your  guidance,  Doctor,  that  I 
think  I  was  sent  away  to  try  my  strength.  Yet 
I  have  proved  unequal  to  the  test  at  the  out- 
set." 

"  Still,  my  child,  it  is  better  so.  Every  fail- 
ure strengthens  us.  From  our  earliest  infancy 
to  our  oldest  age,  the  meaning  of  the  lessons 
and  holy  words  that  we  learn  becomes  more 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  203 

and  more  apparent,  but  the  full  comprehension 
comes  not  until  this  life  is  merged  in  the  here- 
after of  heaven." 

Edith  enjoyed  every  moment  of  the  Doctor's 
visit  with  that  sort  of  quiet  contentment  so 
soothing  to  saddened  temperaments  that  have 
been  aroused  or  drawn  out  for  a  time.  She  re- 
turned to  her  duties  with  renewed  vigor,  armed 
to  meet  all  provocations.  Mrs.  Green  soon 
after  set  afloat  various  malicious  reports  con- 
cerning Edith  ;  but  Edith,  amid  them  all,  main- 
tained a  quiet  dignity,  and  thus  the  shafts  that 
had  been  feathered  for  Edith's  discomfiture 
were  turned  from  their  destination.  In  time 
many  of  the  parish  matters  were  revised.  The 
school  was  found  too  large  to  be  accommodated 
in  the  church,  and  a  convenient  room  for  it  was 
procured  until  such  time  as  a  parish  house 
could  be  built.  Edith's  work  made  her  many 
friends,  and  her  firm  gentleness  won  the  hearts 
of  the  children.  They  became  orderly,  and  by 
interesting  them  in  the  music  and  church 
services,  they  became  reverential.  After  a 
while  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  hear  the 
church  bell  on  week-days. 


204  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER     XXV. 

"  In  whatever  is  an  object  of  life,  in  whatever  may  be  infin- 
itely and  for  itself  desired,  we  may  be  sure  there  is  something 
of  divine,  for  God  will  not  make  any  thing  an  object  of  life  to 
his  creatures,  which  does  not  point  to,  or  partake  of,  himself." 


IME  accustoms  one  to  changes.  Years 
passed  on  in  the  daily  routine  of 
Edith's  life.  Her  innumerable  occu- 
pations served  to  soothe  and  sustain  her.  She 
saw  a  chance  of  success  in  the  path  she  had 
marked  out  for  herself ;  and  that  was  the  secret 
of  her  serenity  of  spirit.  Her  firm,  upright  in- 
tention and  force  of  character  were  felt  far  be- 
yond her  own  perception.  Indeed  she  knew 
not  that  she  had  personal  influence  at  all,  but 
went  on  in  her  own  straightforward  humility. 
There  were  times  when  her  burden  pressed 
sorely,  and  the  monotony  of  her  daily  labors 
seemed  almost  unbearable — times  when  the 
tempter  would  whisper  "  turn  ;  "  but  she  would 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  2O5 

check  the  thought  and  pray  for  God's  grace, 
and  strength  sufficient  to  follow  her  star  of  fate 
through  the  wilderness.  With  time  the  strug- 
gle grew  less  severe,  and  a  trustful  piety  settled 
around  that  home.  And  home  it  truly  was  : 
for  in  the  small  family  circle,  the  gentle,  sub- 
missive bearing  of  that  loving  mother  was  suffi- 
cient to  surround  it  with  an  unspeakable  calm. 
She  had  a  soothing  influence  like  the  parting 
sunlight,  or  the  voice  of  doves  heard  at  even- 
ing— an  influence  that 

"  Droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath." 

Edith  never  was  lonely.  Her  children  were 
her  constant  companions.  She  never  allowed 
them  to  see  a  regretful  look  upon  her  face  ; 
and,  from  living  so  entirely  wrapt  up  in  them, 
her  former  life  had  come  to  be  a  dream  of  the 
past.  The  home  had  assumed  a  different  ap- 
pearance since  we  first  saw  the  cold,  blank 
walls.  Every  thing  was  simple  but  tasteful.  A 
look  of  refinement  pervaded  the  atmosphere, 
and  the  pretty  sitting-room,  with  its  delicate 
blue  furniture  was  a  picture.  It  was  there  Edith 


2O6  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

did  her  painting,  while  Henry  and  Lena  studied 
their  lessons.  In  this  charming  retreat  we  find 
her  one  evening,  just  before  the  lamps  were 
lighted.  She  had  left  her  table  and  was  stand- 
ing anxiously  by  the  window.  Turning  ner- 
vously to  Lena,  she  said : 

"  Lena,  dear,  I  cannot  understand  what  has 
delayed  Henry  so.  It  is  some  hours  since  I 
sent  him  for  the.  mail.  Run  and  ask  Norah  if 
she  had  not  better  go  after  him." 

"  Now,  ma'am,  what  are  you  fretting  about 
that  boy  for  ? "  said  the  old  nurse  as  she  en- 
tered with  Lena.  "  He  is  getting  old  enough 
to  take  care  of  himself;  and  even  if  he  wasn't, 
don't  every  man,  woman,  and  child  know  Mrs. 
Gantly's  son  ;  for.  bless  him,  he's  the  finest  boy 
in  town." 

"  But,  Norah,  it's  getting  dark,  and  then  he 
was  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  back  to  finish  some 
sketches  he  was  working  at." 

"  Like  as  not  he  has  met  some  of  the  boys, 
and  they  are  having  a  little  play." 

"  Hardly,  Norah  ;  he  went  for  the  mail,  and 
he  knew  I  was  anxiously  looking  for  a  letter 
from  Dr.  Cutler." 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  2O/ 

"Well,  the  mail  maybe  late;  but  If  it  will 
quiet  you,  I  will  just  go  and  look  for  him." 

Turning  again  to  the  window,  Edith  put  up 
her  hands  in  alarm,  exclaiming  :  "  Oh,  Norah, 
what  can  be  the  meaning  of  that  crowd  of  men 
coming  this  way  ?  " 

Before  the  old  woman  had  time  to  answer, 
Henry  almost  knocked  her  over  as  he  bounded 
into  the  room,  and,  rushing  to  his  mother,  in 
broken  sentences  told  her  there  had  been  a 
terrible  railroad  accident,  "  and  there  are  so 
many  killed,  mamma.  The  houses  near  the 
station  are  crowded,  and  I  told  Dr.  Lewis  to 
bring  one  poor  gentleman,  who  seemed  almost 
dead,  to  our  house,  for  I  knew,  mamma,  that 
you  would  take  of  him."  Edith  only  had  time 
to  assure  Henry  that  he  was  right,  as  the  men 
reached  the  house  with  their  sad  burden. 

"  I  do  declare,"  exclaimed  Norah,  putting  her 
glasses  on  the  end  of  her  rrose  to  have  a  better 
look  at  Edith  ;  "  what  will  you  and  those 
children  do  next  ?  as  if  your  life  had  not  been 
sad  enough  without  bringing  more  death  into 
it!" 

"  Norah,  do  not  forget  that  you  are  a  Chris- 


208  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

tian.  Go  to  the  door  immediately  and  let  them 
take  the  poor  man  to  Henry's  room." 

Edith  drew  Henry  and  Lena  to  her,  as  they 
heard  the  heavy  tread  of  the  men  ;  and  they 
bowed  their  heads,  as  at  the  approach  of  death, 
as  the  party  passed  the  door. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  the  scene  at  the  station  was 
frightful.  The  train  has  in  some  way  been 
thrown  from  an  embankment  but  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  town,  and  they  are  carrying  the 
dead  and  wounded  in  as  fast  as  possible." 

Henry's  further  description  was  cut  short  by 
Norah  coming  back  to  the  room,  wringing  her 
hands  and  announcing,  without  preface  or  prep- 
aration, that  the  dead  man  was  "poor,  dear, 
Master  Charlie  Barclay." 

"  What !  "  cried  Edith,  springing  forward  and 
catching  Norah  by  the  arm,  "  are  you  crazy  ?  " 

"  Crazy !  I  wish  I  was,"  sobbed  she,  taking 
Edith  in  her  arms.  "  It  is  Master  Charlie  as 
true  as  I  live,  and  God  has  sent  him  to  my  poor 
child  to  bury." 

"  Have  you  lost  your  senses  ?  "  cried  Edith, 
sharply,  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

"  It  is  as  true  as  I  am  standing  here,  and  Dr. 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  2OQ 

Lewis,  as  soon  as  they  have  examined  him, 
will  tell  you  so." 

"  And  do  you  mean  that  he  is  dead?  "  cried 
Edith,  with  a  hollow  voice,  looking  searchingly 
into  Norah's  eyes. 

But  the  question  was  not  answered  by  Norah ; 
for  at  that  moment  the  door  opened  and  Dr. 
Lewis  came  in,  accompanied  by  the  physician 
who  had  attended  the  sufferer  from  the  scene  of 
disaster.  The  latter  was  a  pompous  man,  whose 
habit  was  to  indulge  in  long  disquisitions,  using 
many  high-sounding  technical  terms  on  the 
probabilities  and  possibilities  of  serious  results, 
consequent  from  his  not  being  called  to  the  pa- 
tient in  time.  But  for  once  Dr.  Lewis,  seeing 
Edith's  too  evident  struggle  for  composure, 
begged  of  him  in  as  few  words  as  possible  to 
tell  Mrs.  Gantly  if  the  patient  were  alive  or  dead; 
for  from  Norah's  exclamations  he  concluded 
that  the  gentleman  must  be  a  friend  of  the 
family. 

"  I  can  assure  you,  Mrs.  Gantly,  the  spark  of 
life  has  not  yet  left  the  frame,  but 

"  Very  good,  very  good.  Then,  Doctor,  we 
will  not  waste  any  time  talking  about  it,"  said 


210.  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

Dr.  Lewis,  cutting  this  dissertation  short.  "  We 
must  move  quickly.  Dp  you  do  everything  in 
your  power  to  keep  life  in  your  patient,  and  I 
will  assist  Mrs.  Gantly  in  notifying  his  friends," 
adding  with  a  smile  as  he  bowed  the  physician 
from  the  room,  "  I  am  confident  in  your  show- 
ing your  usual  skill.7'  Returning  then  to  Edith 
he  calmly  remarked,  "  I  do  not  think  that  there 
is  cause  for  alarm  at  present,  Mrs.  Gantly. 
Your  friend,  if  such  he  be,  is  unconscious,  and 
may  not  be  as  seriously  injured  as  we  fear. 
Now  tell  me,  if  you  can,  whom  to  telegraph,  and 
I  will  immediately  set  about  it.  You  have 
enough  to  harass  you,  and  must  not  take  this 
new  burden." 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  tell  you  to  do,  Doc- 
tor," answered  Edith  in  a  bewildered  manner. 
"  I  do  not  know  who  poor  Charlie's  friends  are. 
His  father  and  mother  are  dead,  and  until  a  few 
moments  ago  I  imagined  that  he  himself  was  in 
Europe.  But  Dr.  Cutler  must  come  ;  we  all 
belong  to  him,"  and,  shuddering,  Edith  clasped 
her  hands  as  if  to  drive  back  her  grief. 

"  Then  I  will  send  for  Dr.  Cutler  immediate- 
ly. But  is  there  not  some  physician  that  you 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  211 

would  like  ?  Our  scanty  supply  of  medical 
talent  is  in  such  demand  that  I  think  it  would 
be  advisable  to  call  in  other  assistance." 

"  Oh,  yes.  Please  tell  Dr.  Cutler  to  bring 
Dr.  Sands  with  him.  You  know  Charlie  is  a 
doctor  himself,"  said  Edith  innocently,  for  the 
moment  forgetting  that  Dr.  Lewis  had  never 
heard  of  the  said  Charlie  until  ten  minutes 
before. 

But  the  Doctor  understood  her  bewilder- 
ment. Her  life  for  the  last  few  years  had  been 
such  an  ordinary,  every-day  affair,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  her  financial  troubles,  that  this  sud- 
den shock  seemed  to  render  her  mind  almost 
chaotic.  Her  thoughts  were,  in  a  measure, 
beyond  her  control.  She  could  only  place  her 
mind  on  one  idea — Charlie  was  in  her  house. 
The  last  companion  of  her  childhood  had  come 
home  to  her  to  die.  It  must  be  a  dream! 
How  could  it  be  true  ? 


212  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

"  Dead  calm  in  that  noble  breast, 

Which  heaves  but  with  the  heaving  deep." 

TENNYSON. 


HEAVY,  mournful  silence  had  hung 
over  that  happy  home  for  two  days. 
Every  one  moved  quietly.  The  few 
orders  that  were  necessary  were  given  in  whis- 
pers. The  sufferer  had  remained  unconscious. 
With  the  exception  of  a  vague  wandering  at 
times,  one  would  almost  believe  him  dead. 

"  I  wish  I  had  ascertained  about  the  trains," 
fretted  Edith,  as  she  followed  Norah  from  room 
to  room.  She  could  not  rest  quietly  anywhere. 
A  nurse  had  been  procured,  and  Dr.  Cutler, 
with  the  physician,  was  momentarily  expected. 
"  Now,  Mrs.  Gantly,  I  don't  know  what  to 
make  of  you  ;  fretting  yourself  to  death  this 
way.  They  telegraphed  that  they  were  com- 
ing, and  so  of  course  they  are  coming." 


ALL   ABOUT   EDITH.  213 

"  But,  Norah,  the  nurse  says  he  is  growing 
more  restless,  and  she  thinks  there  is  but  little 
hope." 

"  Don't  you  know  those  nurses  never  have 
any  hope  ?  It  would  not  be  proper.  They 
always  make  the  patient  out  as  bad  as  possi- 
ble, and  then  get  all  the  more  credit  for  cur- 
ing him." 

"  Norah,  what  is  the  use  of  trying  to  be  so 
stoical  ?  You  are  as  anxious  as  I  am  ;  and 
you  know  I  am  trying  to  be  cheerful,  and  have 
been  unusually  so.  But  this  suspense  is  so 
trying.  If  Dr.  Sands  would  only  come,  then  I 
think  I  should  be  satisfied." 

And  it  so  happened  that,  turning  at  that  mo- 
ment toward  the  door,  she  met  Dr.  Sands,  as 
he  entered  with  Dr.  Cutler.  As  the  latter  took 
her  hands  and  looked  down  on  her  with  his 
anxious  and  worn  face,  yet  calm  as  a  summer 
sea,  full  of  the  peace  "  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing," she  broke  down  completely,  and 
cried  like  a  child.  The  physician  followed 
Norah  to  the  sick  room,  and  in  his  absence 
Dr.  Cutler  ventured  to  ask  how  the  patient  was. 

"  The  physicians  have  been   in  consultation 


214     -  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

some  time,"  sobbed  Edith,  "  and  I  have  been 
anxiously  waiting  for  tidings." 

"  Is  he  all  the  time  unconscious  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  we  can  judge.  He  sometimes 
seems  to  wake  a  little,  but  only  to  fall  back 
into  that  feverish  wandering,  followed  by  ex- 
haustion. The  physicians  all  say  that  there  is 
imminent  danger,  unless  he  gets  asleep.  It  is 
so  hard  to  think  that  we  can  only  stand  by  and 
watch  him  die,"  and  losing  control  of  herself, 
Edith  again  broke  down. 

"  Do  not  forget,  my  child,  that  God  is  good, 
and  while  it  is  proper  to  prepare  for  the  worst, 
let  us  hope  and  pray  and  work  for  the  best." 

"  I  know  it,  Doctor,  and  I  fancied  all  these 
years  of  trouble  had  made  me  stronger  and 
more  trustful.  But  my  old  enemy  has  come 
back  in  the  presence  of  this  anguish." 

"  You  are  trustful,  Edith,  and  wonderfully 
brave  ;  but  I  imagine  you  require  rest.  We 
will  watch  and  pray,  and,  if  God  sees  fit,  He 
will  yet  restore  our  brother." 

Edith  removed  her  hands  from  her  eyes, 
and  listened  for  a  moment.  Then  suddenly 
rising,  her  whole  form  trembled.  Her  quick 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  21$ 

ears  had  caught  the  physicians'  steps.  They 
all  three  came  quietly  into  the  room  ;  two  of 
them  with  white  hair,  and  grave,  thoughtful 
faces.  The  eldest  of  the  two,  Dr.  Sands,  came 
forward  toward  Edith,  and  taking  the  hand 
she  offered,  he  kept  it  in  his  own  while  he 
spoke  : 

"  Our  poor  Charlie  is  in  a  very  critical  state, 
but  I  do  not  despair,  if  I  can  depend  on  his  old 
constitution  and  his  nurses.  Now  tell  me,  has 
he  said  anything  that  you  could  understand  ?  " 

"  Only  a  word  here  and  there." 

"Did  you  know  what  they  referred  to — his 
early  life  or  something  you  were  not  familiar 
with  ?  " 

"  Once  he  spoke  of  home  ;  then  he  called  his 
mother  ;  and  last  night  Norah  told  me  he  sang 
part  of  a  song  he  used  to  sing  with  Henry." 

"  Very  good.  He  is  likely  to  recall  his 
early  days  and  friends ;  and  having  them  near 
him  may  save  his  life.  Could  you  nerve  your- 
self to  watch  his  restless  sufferings,  and  not 
allow  yourself  to  be  afraid  of  his  dying  ?  Do 
you  think  you  could  calmly  meet  his  gaze  when 
he  returns  to  consciousness  ?  For  he  will  do 


2l6  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

so,  I  am  confident,  if  he  can  only  get  asleep 
within  the  next  six  hours." 

"  Oh,  do  let  me.     I  know  I  can." 

"  You  must  not  undertake  this  rashly. 
Your  presence  may  do  serious  harm  in  place 
of  good,  unless  you  are  prepared." 

"  You  are  unwise.  Allow  me  to  suggest," 
remarked  the  resident  physician,  "that  Mrs. 
Gantly  is  not  very  strong,  and  has  been  much 
overcome  by  her  friend's  critical  condition  ; 
and  it  is  a  sad  sight  to  see  a  friend's  life  hang- 
ing by  a  thread." 

"  Very  true ;  but  I  have  great  confidence  in 
Mrs.  Gantly's  power  of  endurance  and  self-con- 
trol," said  Dr.  Cutler.  "  I  highly  approve  of 
Dr.  Sands's  suggestion." 

"  Please  let  me,"  said  Edith  with  a  faint  little 
smile,  raising  her  eyes  to  her  two  friends.  "  I 
will  follow  your  directions  exactly.  I  can  be  as 
calm  and  composed  as  you  could  wish,  and 
then  I  am  always  wakeful.  You  know,  Doctor, 
that  I  am  used  to  sickness  and  to  death." 

These  words  were  spoken  with  so  much 
pathos,  that  both  the  gentlemen  turned  their 
eyes  from  the  sad  face  that  looked  so  calm 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  2 1/ 

notwithstanding  the  surging  pain  that  was  in 
her  heart. 

"  Would  it  not  be  well  to  rest  first  ?  "  asked 
Dr.  Cutler. 

"  I  could  not  sleep.  It  would  rest  me  to 
watch  him." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Dr.  Sands.  "With 
such  assistance  I  have  every  hope  of  saving 
him." 

10 


2l8  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

"  And  to  his  eye 

There  was  but  one  beloved  face  on  earth, 
And  that  was  shining  on  him." 


F  he  could  but  sleep!"  Edith  seemed 
to  live  on  those  few  words,  as  she 
sat  beside  the  bed  on  which  Charlie 
lay.  The  room  was  tastefully  furnished,  and 
the  variety  of  pretty  articles  Edith  had  made 
from  time  to  time  for  Henry  gave  it  a  very 
picturesque  appearance.  Her  simple,  soft  gray 
dress,  and  dainty  mourning  cap,  added  to  her 
lovely  face,  in  spite  of  her  pale,  anxious  coun- 
tenance. Norah  found  occasion  to  be  in  the 
room  almost  all  the  time.  She  would  bring 
her  knitting  and  sit  by  the  window;  but  the 
knitting  progressed  very  slowly.  Her  time 
was  mostly  employed  in  wiping  her  glasses. 
The  nurse  waited  in  the  room  beyond,  and  re- 
lieved Edith  when  they  could  induce  her  to 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  219 

leave  her  anxious  watch  for  a  few  moments. 
Dr.  Cutler  was  constantly  near,  encouraging 
and  cheering  all  with  his  trustful  counte- 
nance. 

Shaded  from  the  light,  that  fine  manly  face 
moved  restlessly  to  and  fro  on  the  pillows, 
hardly  quiet  for  the  space  of  a  moment,  while 
that  persistent  muttering,  so  agonizing  to  the 
listeners,  continued  without  intermission.  At 
one  moment  the  whisper  would  be  one  of 
intense  entreaty,  almost  heart-rending  in  its 
earnestness  ;  the  next  some  passionate  expres- 
sion of  wrong,  and  he  would  warn  every  one 
to  keep  from  him,  or  they  would  be  burned 
by  the  flame  that  was  burning  him.  Then  he 
would  call  his  mother,  and  beg  her  to  help 
him  ;  to  put  her  hand  on  his  head. 

Edith  would  place  her  cool  hand  on  his 
brow,  and  for  a  moment  listen  with  drawn 
breath  for  the  answer  to  the  prayer  for  sleep. 
But  in  another  moment  her  heart  would  sink 
again,  as  he  would  dash  her  hand  from  him 
wildly,  declaring  in  the  most  passionate  man- 
ner that  she  was  keeping  some  unknown  one 
from  him — some  one  whom  he  seemed  to  call 


220  ALL  ABOUT   EDITH. 

from  behind  Edith's  chair.  Again  and  again 
this  was  repeated,  as  she  sat  beside  the  bed, 
unknown  to  him,  in  the  awful,  acute  pain  of 
her  watching. 

So  hour  after  hour  passed.  At  times  she 
knelt  beside  him  and  looked  into  his  restless 
eyes.  He  would  whisper  sadly  :  "  All — all  are 
dead.  God's  will  be  done,"  and  turn  away. 
Then  she  would  call  him  by  name,  and  bath- 
ing his  hot  and  restless  hands,  beg  of  him  to 
remember  his  playmate  Edith.  Once  he  rose 
and  pushed  her  from  him  with  such  force, 
Norah  just  caught  her  in  time  to  save  her 
falling.  These  hours  were,  in  imagination, 
ages  to  Edith,  for  she  could  follow  him  in  his 
wanderings  through  all  the  years  of  their  child- 
hood. Certainly  nothing  was  definite  or  con- 
nected, but  she  could  supply  all  the  links  that 
were  missing  ;  and  she  soon  found  herself  to 
be  the  nucleus  around  which  all  his  thoughts 
were  moving.  Scene  after  scene  he  lived  over 
again  in  his  delirium.  At  times  he  was  piti- 
ful, again  angry,  then  troubled,  after  which  a 
fit  of  laughing  would  follow,  and  a  wild  burst 
of  song  echo  through  the  silent  house. 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  221 

The  tears  would  sometimes  gather  in  Edith's 
eyes.  It  was  a  most  terrible  ordeal ;  still  that 
sleep  she  prayed  for  came  not.  Every  moment 
it  seemed  further  off.  Dr.  Sands  changed  medi- 
cines from  time  to  time,  and  grew  more  and 
more  anxious.  At  last,  after  some  nine  hours, 
Edith  thought  she  perceived  a  slight  change, 
and  motioned  to  Norah  to  call  the  doctor. 
He  came ;  and  after  looking  intently  for  a 
moment,  as  he  held  his  patient's  wrist,  he  gave 
a  warning  glance  to  Edith  and  moved  from 
the  bed.  She  remained  with  her  eyes  firmly 
fixed  on  the  all  but  lifeless  face.  The  lips 
moved  slower  and  slower.  The  head  gradu- 
ally sank  on  one  side,  and  he  fixed  his  eyes 
steadily  on  her,  and  then,  softly  murmuring, 
closed  them.  Could  this  be  sleep  !  Oh,  what 
a  relief  to  see  the  lids  fall  over  those  restless 
eyes !  Dr.  Sands  remained  motionless  by  the 
window.  Norah  had  dropped  her  work  and 
sat  with  her  hands  raised,  as  if  to  lower  them 
would  awake  the  sleeper.  So  in  this  hushed 
and  breathless  silence  they  waited  ;  no  one 
near  the  bed  but  Edith, — she,  kneeling  with 
her  eyes  fixed  steadily  on  that  beloved  face, 


222  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

but  her  spirit  communing  with  God,  as  she 
waited  patiently  His  will. 

"  If  he  should  wake,"  Dr.  Sands  whispered 
to  Edith,  "  let  him  first  look  at  you." 

That  "if  he  should  wake,"  was  agony  to 
Edith.  The  night  was  far  advanced,  and  the 
intense  silence  could  be  almost  felt.  For  days 
there  had  been  stillness  as  of  night  over  the 
house,  unbroken  except  by  the  delirium  of  the 
patient.  That  was  now  hushed,  and  the  quiet 
was  that  of  death  itself.  Dr.  Cutler  noiselessly 
took  his  post  not  far  from  Edith,  and  watched 
the  sleeping  face.  Would  the  waking  ever 
come  ?  Would  light  come  to  that  dazed  brain, 
or  would  the  waking  be  in  an  another  world  ? 

Edith  hardly  moved  from  her  post  of  duty. 
Hours  passed,  and  with  the  exception  of  that 
all  but  imperceptible  breathing,  the  silence  was 
still  unbroken.  Suddenly  a  pain  seemed  to 
pierce  Edith's  heart.  She  thought  she  per- 
ceived a  change  in  the  sleeper.  Dr.  Sands 
moved  toward  the  bed  as  if  preparing  for  some- 
thing. Unconsciously  .Edith  covered  her  eyes, 
as  if  to  shut  out  the  sight ;  but  as  quickly  drop- 
ped her  hands  and  waited.  A  pause  in  the 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  223 

breathing  came,  followed  by  a  sigh,  and  then, 
opening  his  eyes,  Charlie  gazed  intently  for  a 
moment  at  the  face  that  was  bending  over  him, 
and  murmured,  "  Edith." 

Dr.  Cutler,  approaching,  knelt  by  the  bed, 
and  in  the  presence  of  this  renewed  life,  slowly 
and  distinctly  repeated  that  beautiful  prayer  be- 
ginning, "  Great  and  mighty  God,  who  bringest 
down  to  the  grave  and  bringest  up  again." 
So  near  to  the  Lord  were  their  hearts  lifted 
up  during  the  utterance  of  this  petition,  that 
for  the  first  few  moments  that  followed  the 
"  Amen,"  there  was  reflected  in  those  hearts  a 
vision  of  the  heaven  of  which  they  were  heirs 
through  hope,  and  they  were  conscious  of  a 
penetrating,  as  it  were,  "  behind  the  vail,"  into 
the  third  heaven,  when  the  soul  seems  to  tran- 
scend the  limitations  of  space  and  time,  while  it 
communes  face  to  face  with  the  Eternal  and 
the  Unseen. 

It  is  of  such  a  condition  that  Farrar  writes 
when  he  says  :  "  There  are  moments  when  the 
grace  of  God  stirs  sensibly  in  the  human  heart, 
when  the  soul  seems  to  rise  upon  the  eagle 
wings  of  hope  and  prayer  into  the  heaven  of 


224  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

heavens ;  when,  caught  up,  as  it  were,  unto 
God's  very  presence,  we  see  and  hear  things 
unspeakable.  At  such  moments  we  live  a  life- 
time ;  for  emotions  such  as  these  annihilate  all 
time.  They 

"  '  Crowd  eternity  into  an  hour, 
Or  stretch  an  hour  into  eternity.' 

At  such  moments  we  are  nearer  to  God ;  we 
seem  to  know  Him,  and  be  known  of  Him  ; 
and  if  it  were  possible  for  any  man  at  such  a 
moment  to  see  into  our  souls,  he  would  know 
all  that  is  greatest  and  most  immortal  in  our 
beings." 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  225 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

"  Arrived  at  last 
Unto  the  wished-for  haven." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

Heaven's  last  best  gift,  my  ever  new  delight." 

MILTON. 

HE  crisis  had  passed.  None  but  those, 
who  have  watched  the  fierce  and 
awful  contest  between  life  and  death 
can  tell  the  magic  of  those  words.  It  was  two 
days  before  Dr.  Sands  would  allow  Edith  to 
converse  with  Charlie  more  than  a  few  mo- 
ments at  a  time.  He  lay  there  quite  still  and 
calm  as  he  followed  her  every  movement  about 
the  room.  She  would  sit  by  his  side  and  com- 
prehend his  wishes  by  his  face ;  and  though  she 
looked  wretchedly  worn  and  tired,  she  would 
not  resign  her  post,  but  was  ever  present  to 
cheer  him  with  her  sweet  refreshing  smile, 
which  had  never  deserted  her  through  her 
trials.  Though  slow,  Charlie's  recovery  v;as 
10* 


226  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

steady,  and  after  a  few  days  he  was  able  to  be 
up  and  move  about  the  room.     Dr.  Cutler  was 
overjoyed  at  getting  his  boy  again,  and  they 
passed  hours  together  talking  over  old  scenes. 
Charlie  had  traveled  all  through  the  Holy  Land, 
and  his  mind  was  richly  stored  with  informa- 
tion.    He  was   much   altered ;   there  was   no 
doubt  of  that.     His  youthfulness  was  gone,  and 
many  a  white  thread  was  visible  in  his  hair. 
But  the  old  expression  was  in  his  face,  though 
that  creased  brow  told  of  many  a  worldly  bat- 
tle fought  and  won.     The  first  Sunday  after 
convalescence,    Dr.   Lewis   invited   Dr.  Cutler 
to  officiate   in  his  church.     The    children  and 
Norah   went   with   him,   and   Edith   remained 
with  the  invalid.     She  read  to  him  the  Church 
service,    and,  as   she  finished  the    epistle,   he 
asked  her    to   play    his    old    favorite    hymn, 
"  Nearer,    my  God,    to  Thee."     As    she    fin- 
ished  she   saw   he  was  much  overcome,  and 
going  to  his  side  begged  him  to  try  and  com- 
pose himself,   or   the  Doctor  would    seriously 
blame  her  for  imprudence  in  allowing  him  to 
over-excite  himself. 

"  It  will  do  me  more  good  than  harm,  Edith. 


ALL  ABOUT   EDITH.  22/ 

My  life  for  the  past  few  years  has  been  so  cold, 
wandering  as  I  have  been,  no  home  ties  or 
pleasures,  and  now  finding  myself  miraculously 
brought  home  to  the  only  friend  of  my  old 
days, — it  is  no  wonder  my  heart  is  full." 

Then  with  difficulty,  for  it  seemed  hard  for 
him  to  speak  out,  he  told  her  how  he  had 
loved  her  ;  how,  from  the  time  he  had  spoken 
to  her  that  autumn  afternoon,  she  had  been  his 
only  thought,  nt>  light  fancy  of  sentimental 
youth,  captivated  by  every  face  it  sees.  But 
his  had  been  the  strong  love  of  a  just  man, 
choosing  one  woman  out  of  all  the  world,  and 
keeping  for  her  sake  his  heart  pure  from  all 
alteration  and  change.  He  had  held  himself 
bound  to  her  by  his  deep  love,  bound  by  a 
faithfulness  perfect  as  that  of  the  knights  of  old, 
asking  nothing  and  yet  giving  all.  Would  that 
there  were  more  such  men  and  more  such  love 
in  the  world ! 

Taking  her  hand  he  held  it  firmly  :  "  And 
now,  Edith,  you  know  all,  and  do  you  think  in 
time  you  can  love  me  ? " 

"  Not  more  than  I  love  you  now,  Charlie. 
You  told  me  all  you  have  just  said  during  those 


228  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

terrible  days  when  I  longed  and  prayed  for  the 
life  God  has  so  mercifully  spared." 

And  more  she  told  him,  though  her  voice  at 
times  broke  down  in  its  earnestness. 

"  Edith,  this  is  more  happiness  than  I  de- 
serve. I  fear  I  am  still  in  that  delirium,"  whis- 
pered Charlie,  as  he  folded  her  in  his  weak 
arms,  strong,  however,  in  the  sense  of  owner- 
ship. 

"  Life  has  been  given  back  to  me  in  such 
fullness,  and  with  it  the  greatest  blessing  that 
life  can  hold.  I  fear  to  let  you  go,  Edith,  for 
how  could  I  now  live  without  my  treasure." 

"  You  must  not  think  you  are  getting  a 
treasure,  Charlie.  Trouble  has  changed  me 
greatly,"  answered  Edith,  while  a  bright 
blush  spread  quickly  from  cheek  to  brow  un- 
der his  earnest  gaze.  "  Do  you  not  see  the 
change  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Things  are  somewhat  different  from 
what  I  should  have  supposed,"  and  he  glanced 
with  a  troubled  look  around  the  prettily  fur- 
nished room.  "  Dr.  Cutler  has  told  me  all ;  but 
I  only  know  one  woman  whom  such  trials  could 
make  more  beautiful  and  patient.  To  that  one 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  229 

I  owe  my  life,  and  now  offer  this  poor  return 
of  love." 

Edith  was  overcome  with  these  few  words  of 
gratitude,  and  as  she  gazed  into  his  eyes  as  he 
clasped  her  in  his  arms,  she  saw  the  earnest- 
ness and  depth  of  the  love  and  happiness  that 
lay  in  store  for  her. 

"  Edith,"  said  Charlie  just  before  the  church 
party  returned,  "  the  greatest  comfort  I  have 
had  in  my  wandering  life  has  been  in  the 
knowledge  that  in  one  dear  church  at  home 
praise  and  worship  were  being  offered  up  in  a 
manner  as  near  perfection  as  this  earth  could 
afford." 

"  Is  not  every  thing,  our  own  happiness  and 
all  else,  given  to  us  to  turn  into  praise,  Char- 
lie?" 

"  Yes,"  echoed  Charlie  thoughtfully,  "  and 
happy  are  such  as  can  do  so." 

"  If  only  one  could,"  sai4  Edith  sighing. 

"  You  can.  Don't  say  otherwise,"  exclaimed 
Charlie.  "  I  know  at  least  that  you  and  Dr. 
Cutler  can." 

"  Oh  yes,  he  can.  It  is  his  secret  of  joy. 
To  him  they  are  not  shadows,  but  foretastes." 


230  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

"  What  a  perfect  life  he  leads !  I  have  al- 
ways thought  it  must  be  such  a  happiness  to 
have  power  of  any  kind  that  can  be  used  in  di- 
rect service,  or  actual  doing  of  good." 

"And  have  you  not  such  power  ?  Your  pro- 
fession opens  a  double  field  to  you.  How 
often  the  physician  can  heal  the  mind  as  well 
as  the  body,  and  man  is  born  to  be  a  doer  of 
good." 

"  Edith,  I  congratulate  you  on  your  success," 
said  Dr.  Cutler,  coming  in  with  the  children. 
"  I  never  saw  a  church  so  much  improved. 
You  surely  have  reaped  the  benefit  of  your  la- 
bors, and  Dr.  Lewis  tells  me  all  look  to  you  for 
advice." 

"  Yes,  it  is  improved  sir ;  but  we  have  to 
work  very  slowly." 

"  Slow  but  sure  is  the  safest  plan  in  all 
things,  even  in  the  recovery  of  our  patient 
here.  See  how  every  hour  is  telling  in  his 
favor.  However,  I  may  not  wait  to  see  the 
entire  cure,  for  I  have  been  thinking,  on  my 
way  home,  that  I  must  not  be  idle  any  longer. 
The  taste  of  pleasure  I  have  had  while  being 
here  with  you  and  the  children  has  spoiled  me, 


ALL  ABOUT  EDITH.  231 

I  fear,  for  my  lonely  home.  I  am  getting  old, 
and  these  young  bright  faces  are  a  great  help 
to  cheerfulness.  Now,  Edith,  you  have  done  a 
good  work  here,  can't  we  induce  you  to  come 
home  ?  We  need  you — indeed  we  do." 

"  That  is  exactly  my  idea,  Doctor,  you  have 
anticipated  my  feelings,"  interrupted  Charlie, 
happiness  beaming  through  his  eyes. 

"  I  have  asked  Edith  to  let  me  take  her 
home,  and  now  look  for  your  consent." 

The  good  old  man  contemplated  them  in  sur- 
prise for  a  moment,  then  joined  their  hands, 
saying,  "  Take  her,  Charlie.  The  dearest  wish 
of  my  heart  is  fulfilled.  Take  her,  and  never 
let  her  know  a  sorrow  you  can  guard  her  from. 
May  God  bless  you  both." 

Let  us  linger  a  moment  for  a  final  glance  at 
the  girl  whom  we  first  met  in  all  the  exuber- 
ance of  youth,  and  amid  the  brightness  of  a 
happy  home.  Changed !  Yes,  she  is ;  but  love- 
lier than  of  old ;  that  is,  lovelier  if  heavenly 
patience  through  trials  that  purify  and  exalt 
can  shed  over  human  features  something  more 
beautiful  than  girlish  bloom.  She  encountered 
difficulties  while  a  mere  child,  before  strength, 


232  ALL  ABOUT  EDITH. 

spirits,  or  judgment  were  ready  for  the  task. 
She  was  borne  down  by  the  load  of  responsi- 
bilities with  which  she  was  burdened,  and  was 
painfully  alive  to  her  failures.  But  she  learned 
to  bear  her  burdens,  and  the  rod  and  the  staff 
are  her  comfort.  At  times  her  heart  had  well- 
nigh  fainted,  but  her  faith  never  forsook  her. 
These  things  have  passed,  and  their  memory 
is  sweetened  by  thankfulness.  In  place  of  the 
desponding  child,  there  is  now  the  trustful  wo- 
man. Further  trouble  may  be  in  store,  the 
clouds  may  return,  but  she  is  safe.  Her  secu- 
rity is  not  in  freedom  from  the  storm,  but  in  the 
belief  that  "  God  is  love." 


THE    END. 


H.  K. 


A     000  029  732 


